


Hooked

by merrythoughts, ReallyMissCoffee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Coercion, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dubious Ethics, Dysfunctional Relationships, Eventual Happy Ending, Feelings cropping up, Flirting, M/M, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Possessive Sex, Power Imbalance, Precious Peter Parker, Reality TV, Rimming, Sexual Tension, Singing Competition, Sneaking Around, Texting, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark is a rockstar, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Relationships, Virgin Peter, peter is 19
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 98,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrythoughts/pseuds/merrythoughts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReallyMissCoffee/pseuds/ReallyMissCoffee
Summary: By now Tony's seen all the kid's YouTube videos - the vlogs, the covers, the originals. He'd been involved in selecting the pool of potential candidates for the 'online fan vote' and as soon as he'd come upon Peter Parker, all sweet smiles, earnest eyes and that beautiful voice, Tony Stark had known that the kid was going to be absolutely adored. Peter had that "it factor." Tony had it - still has it maybe - but instead of being known for melting hearts he'd been associated with melting panties off. Oh well, can't have it all.[AU trash: Peter competes in a music competition show; Tony's a judge/his mentor; they both have the hots for each other]





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up! There are images depicting texts that need to load (and if they mess up, lemme know, and maybe I'll add the text too?). Not all chapters have texting.
> 
> This chapter is pretty tame, but the story gets pretty smutty, UST-y and messed up going on, so yeahhhh :B Just goin' for the Explicit right away. 
> 
> As these are smaller chapters, we should be able to post this on a somewhat regular schedule, but who knows.
> 
> The actual singing competition isn't really important lol but it is modeled after X Factor...
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is another merrythoughts & ReallyMissCoffee production. In case you don't know us, just a heads up: this is written first and foremost as an alternating roleplay between us which doesn't necessarily translate smoothly into an easily digestible or traditional fic format.
> 
> At times the flow can be jarring - we know - but please forgo any constructive criticism regarding the format. We are choosing to share our work and if you like it, you like it, if not, press the back button and try something else as we have no interest in attempting to fic-ify our stories and cut down on the introspection/words etc. Thanks! :)  
_____________  
Tony written by _merrythoughts_, Peter written by _ReallyMissCoffee_

* * *

* * *

* * *

**[After the first live performance...]**

** **

By now Tony's seen all the kid's YouTube videos - the vlogs, the covers, the originals. He'd been involved in selecting the pool of potential candidates for the 'online fan vote' and as soon as he'd come upon Peter Parker, all sweet smiles, earnest eyes and that beautiful voice, Tony Stark had known that the kid was going to be absolutely adored. Peter had that "it factor." Tony had it - still has it maybe - but instead of being known for melting hearts he'd been associated with melting panties off. Oh well, can't have it all.

They've just done their first live show and Peter, of course, killed it. He'd sang_ Just The Way You Are_ by Bruno Mars, smiling and radiating sweetness like it was his damn superpower (and maybe it was). The other judges - Nat, Barton and Sam loved him too. Tony needs to be impartial and supportive of all his boys competing but he knows that Peter, as long as he keeps it together, has the chance to go all the way to the finale and then hopefully take the win.

Which is how Tony rationalizes his growing interest in Peter and the extra attention he's been showing the kid. Naturally Tony plays it smart around the cameras - he's long used to his life being filmed - but what he's doing right now isn't technically _supposed_ to happen. But fuck the rules, he's Tony Stark and he wants to talk to Peter with no one else around and so he will.

His car is one block away from the contestant's house, his lights on, and when he sees the form of Peter emerge, Tony flashes the lights and then unlocks the car's doors. This is probably a bad idea, but hey, Tony loves those.

* * *

It still feels like a dream. Not just winning the fan vote enough to be pushed through to the actual competition, but _everything_. Peter can't believe that he's there, living in that house with the other contestants - nice people who he gets along with pretty easily - and he can't believe that he'd just performed live not a few hours ago. He's running high on adrenaline, elated in a way he hasn't been before. So when _Tony Stark_ texts him and encourages him to sneak out, well. Peter's not stupid.

It's Tony Stark, after all. Hero, legend, the _best_ singer he's ever heard to date. The guy who had inspired him to actually try his hand at the music thing on YouTube in the first place! Because if Tony could keep going despite the media storm at his back, if he could keep his head up despite the hate, well, what did Peter have to be afraid of?

So he sneaks out, giving a vague excuse to the handful of his housemates who are still up. He says something about a walk as he throws his jacket on and taps his sneaker on the floor to make the back stop folding over his heel, and before he can overthink it, he turns and makes his way out.

Peter finds the car easily by the quick blink of lights and he feels a quick, elated surge in his chest. And, looking around to make sure no one's seen him, Peter hurries over to the car and slips inside before he can think about anything other than _trying_ to be cool.

And then he's face to face with Tony again and Peter's nerves promptly jitter to life.

"H-hey, hi, wow, you weren't-- you weren't kidding, huh? You're really here. How's-- how's it going?"

* * *

With interest, Tony watches as Peter climbs in. Peter looks ever the picture of a rumpled not-quite teenager. Tony has told himself countless times that despite the youthful appearance, Peter _isn't_ actually a kid. Which is good because Tony has never been one for jailbait (he does have _some_ morals okay). They're mostly sitting in darkness except for the nearby street lamp as well as the soft blue glow from the car's display console and Tony sees the excitement and nerves practically light up Peter's face.

Tony's long been used to this kind of fan behavior and the excitement sure as hell beats entitlement, so Tony flashes an easygoing grin (not that he'd ever expect Peter to display such behavior, the kid's practically a boy scout).

"Yeah, it's really me. In the flesh," Tony says, his hand lifting to give a flourish as he gestures at himself. He's always been the type to talk with his hands and it's no different now. "I wanted to congratulate you on your performance. You killed it, like a proper slasher villain. Carnage all around."

* * *

Peter knows he's not being even a little bit cool right now but it's hard to really care. He's sitting in a car with _Tony Stark_, and instead of being the ass that people accuse him of being behind the scenes, Tony grins at him, not seeming to mind Peter's internal freak out. He must get this kind of thing a lot, and as much as Peter wants to be cool, he really can't be.

He settles for not bouncing his leg in the nervous energy he can feel all over his body. Instead he grins back, wide and bright and thrilled, even drawing in a tighter breath of excitement before he nods.

"You think? I had a _blast_! It was so much fun. I mean, I was scared out of my mind, but in a good way, you know?" It doesn't occur to him that maybe Tony _doesn't_ know. "Thanks so much. I can't wait to do it again!"

* * *

He's not supposed to meet up with any of the contestants during off time, but Tony doesn't care. There's something about Peter Parker that had grabbed him as soon as he'd come across the kid's YouTube channel. Peter had been first nominated in the online fan vote and then had won once the show had selected their top ten picks (and Tony had been thrilled that one of his coveted spots had gone to Peter).

Tony lets his hands rest on the steering wheel, tapping out the rhythm of the song that Peter had sung hours earlier. Ah, pop songs. So catchy. Peter prattles on a bit - which can annoy Tony - but it doesn't now. The behavior from Peter, somehow, manages to simply be cute.

"Good, good, good," Tony replies. "I'm digging your enthusiasm." He clears his throat and gives Peter an appraising look. "Now, I'm sure you know that I'm not supposed to pick favorites - nor am I supposed to have a bias, but that's bullshit." It really is. "Each judge already has a favorite anyway. And you're mine, but I'd like to get to know you better. Without the cameras and the crew around."

* * *

_Play it cool, play it cool_, Peter thinks desperately to himself even though he knows he's failing miserably. Just being in Tony's car is likely giving himself away because it's taking a real effort to _not_ bounce his leg and talk a mile a minute. If Tony wasn't there, Peter knows he'd be laughing or spinning or basically being a bona fide nerd in every possible way, so trying to look composed is really hard.

He still does his best, still listens intently and focuses on his breathing, on keeping it even. In through his nose, out through his mouth. He counts the beats, then realizes that _he's_ not counting anything, because it's Tony who's drumming out the beats of the song he'd sung and-- yeah, Peter's thrilled all over again.

"That--yeah, okay, okay, I can do that," Peter says with a hopelessly excited smile. He rubs his palms over the thighs of his jeans, subtly wiping the sweat off of his palms. He wets his lips, quick. "Um... how... how much do you want to know? What do you want to know? I don't--I don't really know how much you _already_ know, sir."

* * *

It looks like Peter is trying very hard to do... something. Tony thinks Peter is attempting to hold himself back which wouldn't be any surprise because Tony knows the singer has a lot of energy and that he's usually a bit of a twitchy chatterbox (as evidence in many of the uploaded videos). Tony's always been rather chatty himself, so he gets it.

He doesn't know exactly what it says about Peter that the guy has been so readily going along with whatever _he_ says. Tony's used to this, of course - used to people pandering to him - but he's Peter's mentor and a judge on the show that Peter's competing in. There's an obvious, glaring power imbalance between them and he wonders if Peter is usually this compliant. Well, whatever. Peter's an adult. It's not like Tony _forced _him here under gunpoint.

_Sir?_ Tony's eyebrow arches at that. A little respect is never amiss.

"I know what you've elected to share with the internet via your online presence," Tony answers. "I know what you've told the show during your little interview blurb pieces." He shifts in his seat, angling his body toward Peter and his hands dropping to his lap. "Starter questions: Why didn't you legit audition for the show? Music: hobby, passion or your life? Are you boringly wholesome or do you actually want to win?"

* * *

Peter wonders for a second if the 'sir' had been too much, but it doesn't look like it had been. He's still a little leery but he doesn't let that stop him as he sits there, waiting for Tony's questions.

God, Tony wants to know about him. More than just what Peter has said before, and the knowledge makes him feel oddly giddy and nervous at the same time. He wants to do well, wants to be honest, but he also really wants Tony to like him. So he listens, he thinks, and when he's allowed to talk, Peter wets his lips and rushes on.

"Okay, uh... I didn't audition because-- well, I mean. I didn't really think people liked my stuff _that_ much. I thought about it," he adds hastily. "But I was planning on going to college too just to have something to fall back on. I love music so much but not many people actually make it, you know? I figured I'd try to audition once I had more of a-- err. A safety net?"

Peter draws in a quick breath, his fingers tapping against his knees. He's nervous but that's to be expected.

"Music is-- music is everything to me but my aunt worries. About me and my future. So-- so yeah. That's why I didn't audition. And I guess I kinda answered your other thing by mistake, right. But--" Peter cuts in, louder, his pulse a bit quicker. "I really do want to win. I'm scared, sure, but it'd be... God, it'd be a _dream_ to win."

* * *

Peter hadn't auditioned in the traditional way - he'd first been nominated by fans, had then won the popular vote and had then been pushed through to the first live show. Tony imagines that the other contestants who'd auditioned and had to go through boot camp to get to this place may be a little salty toward Peter, but Peter has _also _had less time to win over new fans, as the viewers hadn't been able to follow the typical 'journey' from audition to live show, so Tony thinks it sort of evens out.

Tony listens to the verbal rush and already he knows that everyone's going to love this sweet kid once the cameras show more of him. Buzz words like 'safety net' remind Tony of disapproving family - he's had his own fair share of that (but he'd proven his old man wrong ten times over, so there). It's definitely a good sign that Peter actually wants to win. Tony would have been disappointed if the kid had gone with a, 'just performing is rewarding enough' schtick. What's the point of competing if you weren't going to try and actually win?

Tony gives a nod and makes a thoughtful sound. "Good, good," he begins. "I was worried that you were going to be spouting off like, 'oh golly gee, it's just a dream to even be here, but I trust in God's plan for me, blahblahblah.'" Tony gives an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. It's obvious enough what he thinks about _those _kinds of people.

"This show could change your life, but I want to make sure that _you_ want it too."

* * *

The face that Peter pulls as soon as Tony mentions _God's plan_ should likely be enough to tell him exactly what he thinks of that. Still, it doesn't take him long to realize that that's probably going to be seen as rude, so he hastens to clear his expression back up. May had warned him about cameras, about how people would see him, about making a good impression and Peter has been _trying_ to do that to the best of his abilities.

Still, the knowledge that he's here, the knowledge that Tony likes him, that he's Tony's _pick_ is... it's amazing. Peter's still kind of reeling, but in the best possible way.

"I do. I really do. I mean... I'll always be thankful to my fans for voting me in, and I know they'll still follow me even if I don't win. I'm super lucky to be in the position I'm in. But, like... that doesn't mean that I don't _want_ to win. Being signed onto your label would be-- god, that'd be amazing."

* * *

While there's a definite appeal to the sweet boy next door type, Tony doesn't want to back a kid who's not hungry for the actual win. But it's clear enough from Peter's disgruntled expression about _God_ that Peter isn't so apple pie (thank god). Tony Stark, being the rock star bad boy, has garnered him attention from all walks of life and yes, sometimes his fans had been just the sweetest little things, with their doe eyes and innocence (and their subsequent desire to get dirty with him). Next to Peter, it's difficult to _not_ think if Peter would be the same.

While Peter has never been romantically linked to anyone or done any official 'coming out' on his channel, the kid is all about 'love is love' and celebrating differences and whatever. Tony is fairly certain Peter is, at least, bisexual. But he should really stop pondering any of this because, work first.

"Yes, it would be amazing," Tony agrees with satisfied nod. "For you. Hopefully for me too because I like representing good music and I like making money and when I can do both, even better." He doesn't tell Peter that he could technically sign Peter after even if Peter doesn't win the show.

* * *

Peter knows that nothing is guaranteed. He does. He knows that the majority of the votes are going to be tallied during the live show tomorrow and he's both terrified and excited to see if he'll even make it past the first round, so to speak. Still, it _has_ been amazing, and being able to compete even this far is still dizzying in its excitement.

Winning would be great, but he still knows that he's coming in at a bit of a disadvantage. He hadn't gone through the auditions. America doesn't know him as well. He'd just shown up for the performances and that could bite him in the ass, but Peter's still excited to go on and see what happens. And knowing that Tony's backing him - even a little bit - is thrilling.

Hell, just sitting in Tony's car is thrilling, but Peter is _so_ not going to go down that road. He's trying really hard not to be lame.

"Well, uh. Fingers crossed that I can get people to like my music, then. My voice. Me, I guess. Because that'd be so cool. Um..." Peter trails off and wets his lips again. The air is dry, and he's way too excited for this. "Was there... was there anything else you wanted to know? About me? Specifically?"

* * *

Tony has a lot of clout in the business. While he may not be currently selling as much shit as Natasha, he's had almost two decades iin the industry and put out more albums than her and Sam combined (not that this is a competition between the judges - it's just something that he enjoys rubbing in their faces, because why not?). The winner of the show gets signed to either Tony or Barton's label and there's contracts signed - just a one album deal to begin with because these singing shows are a dime a dozen nowadays. Past winners haven't ended up lasting, but Tony would like _his_ win to actually mean something and be the outlier because how cool would that be? To have a protege of sorts, to really find and produce a star.

Peter has potential, with his likable personality, raw talent, a sweet voice, good looks, and a bit of a sob story as well? People go crazy over that kind of shit. So far, in between takes and during their recorded talks, they've worked well together. Tony would like that to continue.

But Tony can only do so much. America's lack of voting can kick Peter to the bottom, so Tony is hoping that Peter is able to win the viewers over. America hasn't had the chance to see enough of Peter yet.

It's Peter's tongue poking out and licking at his lips that has Tony straightening in his seat. Yeah, he should probably get laid.

"How _un-straight_ are you?" Tony suddenly asks. "Like, rainbows only during Pride and championing the love is love-thing, or are you pissing unicorn juice and have no idea where a clitoris is?" He's being blunt, yes, but there _is _a reason.

* * *

Peter's really trying not to be lame here. Like, it's his _main_ goal at this point, because as much as he loves that his fans have gotten him to this point, this is _Tony Stark_ and he's still absolutely freaking out. He's hiding it well at least, or... well. He hopes he is. But tapping at his legs with his fingers to work off some steam is kind of the only thing keeping him going here.

At least... it is until Tony suddenly cuts in, and Peter knows that he has to look shocked. He feels it, the way he jerks back a little like Tony's suddenly clapped right in his face, and oh, god, he's suddenly _really_ glad it's dark in the car, because he can feel himself going slightly red. Tony's... colorful turn of phrase hadn't helped.

He remembers MJ asking him much the same thing after she'd come out, and as comfortable as Peter feels talking about his sexuality with _her_, and with Ned and May, he's not out to his fans. It's never really seemed important. It's never come up.

Until now, that is. Peter's mouth works for a second but no sound comes out, and he has no idea what to do except... well. Tell the truth. He swallows.

"Um... some--somewhere around the, uh... last one. But not quite. I like, um-- I like girls still, and I know where the-- that's not important," Peter cuts off, because _wow_, he doesn't want to relive that talk with MJ, like, _ever_.

"I'm bi. Is that... is that going to come up? Or going to be a problem? There wasn't anything in the rules about that..."

* * *

Oh, this kind of questioning would not fly on the air, but they're not in front of a camera and Tony knows this. Inside his flashy sports car, he can say whatever he wants - well, within reason. He's not about to verbally assault Peter, but this is just talking - besides, he has a reason for the question. Tony always has a reason for his behavior. Is that reason always _good_? No, but he has reasons.

Tony Stark has long been known for being blunt, but he's always believed that it's better to be upfront than beat around the bush and it's no different here. If he's going to actually work with Peter he needs to know that Peter can actually deal with him.

His upfront question has Peter looking properly scandalized, but Tony doesn't apologize or backtrack. Peter eventually gets his mouth in working order and Tony gets his fumbled answer. _Bi._ He can work with that.

"Of course there aren't _rules_ about this kind of thing," Tony comments with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And while we're living in a more yeehaw-rainbow time, it's still touch and go. Straight white males are still the norm, but that can just be for appearances."

Tony's eyes look over Peter in the dark. Could this kid hack it? "As soon as you start to progress in this competition, your image is going to be a thing. I just wanted you to start thinking about that. Don't _overthink_ it. Normal think."

* * *

Peter hadn't even thought of his sexuality when they'd contacted him to be on the show, at least not in more than a passing glance at the message. MJ had made a few allusions about being around so many hot, talented people and Peter had sent her rude gifs in return, but aside from that, well... he hadn't really given it thought.

He is now, though. Even as Tony waves a dismissive hand, Peter can't pretend like his pulse isn't a little quicker. He thinks he remembers a few mild scandals about Tony being seen with men, but that's not enough to go on to figure out _his_ sexuality. What if Tony's homophobic? Peter has no idea if he is, and the thought only _just_ occurs to him then. So it is a somewhat... uncomfortable few seconds as Tony tells him about the _norm_ in the world.

It takes Peter a little too long to understand. He frowns, as though waiting for a better explanation, but when it's clear that nothing is coming, he goes quiet, thoughtful despite his embarrassment.

"Are you... saying that it'd be safer to pretend to be straight?" Peter asks hesitantly, like he can't _really_ believe that Tony is saying it. "Or am I missing something?"

* * *

Tony Stark isn't straight, but he's never signed up to be some Pride ambassador. There's better people and better role models than him. While Tony can swing in _all_ ways, he's always been mindful of who he takes to events, and it's always been pretty women hanging off his arm. But in some hopping and packed nightclub? Tony is more than happy to rub up against whoever, and in his bedroom (or any private-like place)? Yeah, Tony takes whoever he wants.

Even in the dark, Tony can feel Peter's discomfort at this topic. Tony doesn't feel bad about it, however. This is just the business. It's not necessarily fair, but life isn't fair. He'd rather be honest about this sort of thing. Disillusionment is for the simple minded.

Still, Tony can't be surprised by Peter's questions. Tony shifts in his seat, exhaling slowly as he gazes in the direction of the contestant's house. Peter would need to head back soon.

"I wouldn't necessarily say _pretend_," Tony begins. "Just, don't be overly flamboyant if possible? Be yourself. It's always worked for me. People don't mind _questioning_ or wondering - it adds some mystery." He quirks a grin over at the kid.

* * *

Tony _is_ suggesting he play straight. Peter's still excited. He is. He's looking forward to the live results tomorrow even if he is nervous, but there's something kind of... disappointing about hearing that. It's not like Peter had assumed that people would be understanding; he's not out to his fans, after all, and they've known him for four years now. Still, it's a little stain on an otherwise great night.

There _is_ a plus side, though, albeit a small one. It's just a simple little statement - _it's always worked for me_ \- but Peter thinks he knows enough to read between the lines. He looks at Tony in the low light of the sports car, curious but trying not to be rude about it. He thinks, maybe... had that been a hint that maybe Tony's not so straight either? Peter doesn't know, but he thinks it might have been.

Peter nods, slowly. He knows he could get upset, but instead he looks thoughtful. Maybe he's not thrilled, but he gets it, at least a bit.

"I don't... _think_ I'm flamboyant? One of my best friends said I'd make an awful gay guy with how I dress, and I don't really plan on being anyone but me. But, um... yeah. Yeah, I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Stark."

* * *

Does Tony hope that Peter picks up what he's putting down? Yeah, maybe, because Tony would rather Peter know that he's on his side and not some homophobic asshole. The power of a fangirl _is_ still monumental and Tony doesn't want Peter's preferences to alienate any potential fans. It's all about walking the line and Tony has always excelled at that. Give them a little, but not too much.

Thankfully Peter doesn't seem like he's going to fall apart over this. Besides, Tony is doing the kid a favor here. _Real_ advice is priceless. Tony's learned these lessons from his own failures and from the numerous fires that Pepper has put out. Tony knows that he likely could come out as bi _now_, he's been seen with countless women, been married and divorced, and has fielded some racy same-sex pictures anyway and he's still relevant. His career could survive. Come out as _bi_ is just another word stamped on him. Him potentially dating a man, however? Tony wouldn't risk it.

"You're not really flamboyant, no," Tony agrees. Tony loves the flamboyant, give him all the flamboyance, but he doesn't need Peter tapping into that. At least not right now. "You're sugar and spice and everything nice, aren't ya?"

With that, his hand lifts and he taps Peter's nose with his index finger as well as gifting Peter with a signature flirty wink.

* * *

Peter does wonder what counts as 'flamboyant', at least in these regards. Tony had told him not to overthink anything, but that's kind of Peter's calling card. He loves his fans, and he's got a good grasp on things, but he does tend to obsess and get a little anxious over stupid things sometimes. He thinks back, trying to remember his performance, trying to remember if he'd done anything flamboyant.

Tony kind of takes the sting out of that blow by agreeing with him, though. Peter relaxes, relieved that at least Tony seems to know what he's talking about. But before Peter can say anything else, Tony suddenly reaches over and taps Peter's nose and Peter jerks a little in surprise. He hadn't expected Tony to touch him, and he _really_ hadn't expected... well.

The wink makes something really traitorous and ridiculous flutter in his chest, and as much as Peter _wants_ to be cool, he's very aware of the way that he smiles in a very un-cool way. He practically jitters in his seat, stammering for a few seconds before he finally manages to tell his brain to _shut up_, and then Peter closes his mouth with a click of his teeth.

"I- um, I-- I think-- maybe? I don't know. If _you_ think so, uh... y-yeah, kinda?" He offers a slightly giddy smile. "I try. Not to be a jerk, I mean."

* * *

Just one little touch, one little wink. It's nothing major. Nothing that's overly scandalous or deviant. If anything, this is pretty tame for him. Tony's a flirt. He always has been. He's flirted with Nat and he even thrown Sam a bone here and there just to keep things fair. The audience already has responded well to his humor and flirtations so Tony knows that he's going to keep up with it. This is what he brings to the show. A dash of charming and flirty with brutal honesty on the side.

As soon as Tony observes Peter's reaction, something satisfied unfurls within him. God, Tony's always been a sucker for causing bright, excited smiles and seeing such a smile on Peter's face is no different. Peter goes a step further because the kid practically bounces in his seat and can't even get his mouth working immediately.

It's now that Tony knows that Peter is _into _him and it's not just a fan worship. It's like a sixth sense for Tony.

He smiles smugly at Peter's verbal floundering. "Yes, I think so, and I also think you better hop back to the house. I'll see you tomorrow at the results show. Get some sleep, kid."


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super image/text-heavy!
> 
> In honor of my birthday, I'm posting this early because, like Tony, I have shit impulse control - merry

* * *

* * *

**[After the first results show, Peter ends up in the bottom 3, sings for his life, but makes it through]**

****

** **

** **

** **

* * *

It had been disappointing, being in the bottom three, but to Peter's endless relief, it doesn't happen again during next week's show. He's stunned, practically elated, and through his excitement he swears he can see Tony looking smug down at the judge's table. Somehow that makes it all the better.

Because Tony... well. Tony's been texting him since the beginning. Never too much, never something obvious. Usually it's just updates on the performance or suggestions that Peter can make, but sometimes... sometimes it's not so professional.

Well. Maybe. Peter honestly can't tell.

He thinks about it through rehearsals the following week, and it's only by sheer dumb luck that he doesn't mess up. That's the _last_ thing he needs, going home because he'd been too preoccupied with trying to figure out if _Tony Stark's_ texting is actually flirting. Tony, twice his age, and infinitely times his fame. Yeah, right. Like _that's_ ever going to happen.

And it shouldn't, anyway. Tony's his mentor.

Still, rehearsals for the 3rd show do wind up going well as the days go on. Peter likes the song he's singing, even if it's a little more provocative than what he usually goes with. Tony seems supportive enough, giving actual feedback and coaching as he takes Peter through it again and again, and it's good. It's actually really easy to work with Tony. They get along well, even if Peter doesn't really stop being star-struck.

It's mid-week, before rehearsal, that Peter takes a quick pit-stop. He knows how the sessions run, knows that once he's there, he's not going to be stopping anytime soon, and so he loses the cameras as he darts into the bathroom. He honestly only intends to be a minute, and he's got his jeans unzipped by the time he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening.

* * *

Thankfully America - or at least those who watch their generic singing show and vote - do remove their heads from their asses and Peter isn't in the bottom three the next week. Tony honestly hadn't known what he'd do if Peter had been voted off the second week _or_ was singing for his spot again. By far Peter has the best voice. Stage presence? They're still workin' on it, but the kid is young and has time and is used to singing in his damn bedroom. A live audience and a stage is a huge step up.

The texting continues and eh, sometimes he's a little flirty, but it's nothing overboard, nothing raunchy. Peter sometimes takes minutes to respond, but it amuses Tony. He valiantly tries to keep things professional while they're working, because hey, he _is_ a professional still and this _is_ a job and he _can_ behave. The texting is fun and it allows him to keep tabs on Peter (which yeah, he knows may sound creepy).

This next song is complicated because Peter hasn't really gone for sex appeal before and it's a bit of a stretch. It also doesn't help that Tony happens to enjoy Peter _trying_ for that sex appeal either, but he keeps his advice on point at least.

He's honestly not expecting to run into Peter in the bathroom, but lo' and behold, there's the kiddo standing at a urinal. Tony has no shame as he strides up and picks the urinal _right_ next to Peter (and Peter's hand apparently has stopped).

"Hey," Tony greets as his own hands undo the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper. He has no qualms about this kind of thing as he fishes out his cock through the fly of his boxers.

* * *

Peter doesn't really mean to freeze when he hears the door open, but he's never really been all that comfortable with anyone else in the bathroom with him. He has a... well. He has a shy bladder, of sorts, but it's fine. He's managed in the past, and besides, there are rules about how guys interact in bathrooms. If there are five urinals (which there are) it makes sense for the other guy to take the one farthest away from Peter, leaving the middle one open in case anyone else walks in.

That's not what happens, though. Peter doesn't look up, trying not to be a creep, and so he honestly _smells_ the new arrival before he sees him. A familiar, richer, headier cologne-or-aftershave makes him look up sharply before Tony even says anything, and Peter is left looking a little like a deer in the headlights as Tony comes to stand at the urinal _right next to him_.

If Peter hadn't frozen before, he does now. Something embarrassed and hot twists through him and he immediately looks away, shuffling a little closer to the urinal. He considers mentioning the rule - putting space between them - but god, how awkward would _that_ be? Peter kind of wants the floor to swallow him at the thought.

"Oh. H-hi, yeah, hi, Mr.-- um. Mr. Stark," he says, like he's not quite sure he's supposed to be talking to another guy in the bathroom. He is suddenly, acutely (creepily) aware that Tony has his dick out next to him, and yeah, Peter's getting fired. For sure.

* * *

Texting is one thing, this is... This could be... Tony knows he needs to be careful here because his dick is out and in his hand and yeah. Bathroom etiquette dictates that he shouldn't have stopped next to Peter, but etiquette is boring to a man like Tony Stark. He has no problems with his cock - hard or otherwise - and as soon as Peter greets him back awkwardly, Tony proves this and begins pissing.

Nothing is going to happen because nothing _can_ happen in here, but that doesn't mean that Tony isn't enjoying the experience as a whole. He's always been a bit of an unapologetic deviant and this is no different.

"How you finding the song?" Tony asks. He knows that that the song is a bit out of Peter's comfort zone, but Peter's been trying his best and he still has time to improve.

* * *

Oh, God, it's actually-- yeah, it's actually happening. Tony's-- right beside him... Peter feels a squirm of embarrassment wiggle its way down his spine and he makes a point to only keep his eyes down in his own urinal. He tries to figure out if it'd be creepier to stand there and not go as well, or if it'd be creepier to try, but Peter's brain feels unhelpfully slow.

He is acutely aware that Tony's right there, and real and personable. And also standing with his dick out. That too. Peter fumbles a little with the front of his briefs, then stops, still trying to figure out what's weirder.

Talking, he decides, is weirder. Which Tony helpfully does next to him. Peter considers hoping the floor might open up and swallow him.

"U-um. It's fine. I mean... not really my style, but I do streams back home and I-- you know, I take requests and some people want me to sing songs like this one. I just usually... you know. Ham it up. Different trying to do it seriously."

* * *

In Tony's mind, Peter _not_ going is weirder, because pissing is just apart of life and having a handful of feet between them shouldn't make a big difference. He is aware that some guys can't take a piss around other guys, but hey, _he's_ never been that type, so there.

He can admit that it's probably more difficult for Peter trying to take a piss next to _him_ because hey, he's Tony Stark - the former singer of Vixen, current solo artist, judge and mentor, but that's not his problem. He's pissing and he's not staring down at Peter or propositioning the kid, but Tony can see that the kid isn't taking his dick out.

While Peter talks, Tony continues to piss because he's had a lot of coffee today.

"You're getting there," Tony remarks easily and it's true, Peter's been making progress. "No hamming it up. We need to see range here." While he _could_ comment about Peter _not_ going, he doesn't. He's not that cruel.

* * *

Not going. Not going is actually weirder, Peter decides, because standing there impotently is so much more awkward than it has any right to be. There's a slight shake to his hands as he finally reaches down, and while he does grimace a little in embarrassment as he takes his dick out, Tony isn't looking, and this isn't supposed to be weird.

It is. But it's not supposed to be.

Peter tries to relax a little, because he's never really had a great time trying to _go_ next to other people, and so he focuses more on what Tony is saying. Something about the song. Peter takes a deeper, slower breath and wets his lips.

"I've got-- you know. The market cornered on like... awkward and cute, I think. That's what my fans say. I don't think I know _how_ to be sexy," Peter says, because that does seem to be his current problem. Well... one of them. He closes his eyes and focuses, and while it's not nearly as comfortable as it would be otherwise, he does manage to start pissing.

* * *

As he finishes, Peter is rambling about not knowing how to be sexy. Well, Peter is right about the awkward cute thing - or rather his fans are right. Peter's got that down pat. Normally cute and awkward doesn't work as well for guys, but Peter pulls it off with flying colors.

Tony shakes his dick off before tucking it back into his boxers. He's doing the zipper up on his jeans as he hears little Peter begin to finally tinkle. Somehow the fact that Peter is so shy in this is just adorable. Tony doesn't say anything immediately. He strides over to the sink and washes his hands, giving Peter a bit of privacy.

But Tony doesn't exit the bathroom. He steps back over to Peter - stopping behind him - and Tony's hands lift and come to rest on Peter's shoulders. He gives one squeeze as he leans into whisper near Peter's ear.

"Maybe not sexy, but I'm sure you could go for _coy_. Cute can lead to that easily enough."

* * *

It's honestly a relief when Peter sees the movement of Tony's hand in his peripheral vision, the universal sign that he's _done_. He doesn't think he's ever been so glad to see a guy leave a urinal before, because Tony turning around and walking to the sink to wash his hands gives Peter _time_.

It's not a lot of time, but he does manage to actually finish while Tony's washing his hands. The sound of the water in the sink drowns everything else out and makes Peter feel significantly less awkward, and he's just finishing up when Tony turns the water off and goes for the paper towel.

The logical next step is for Tony to _leave_. But before Peter even hears him coming, there are suddenly hands on his shoulders, heavy, warm, a little damp, and squeezing, and Peter jerks a little in surprise. He freezes, his eyes wide, and then Tony's voice is in his ear, closer, and-- _oh_, okay, that's-- Peter doesn't know what that is, the sudden jolt that lances through him. It's hot and makes him shiver, makes his pulse skip.

"Mr. Stark--" Peter begins, and then suddenly realizes that Tony is not only close, but he has yet to put his own dick away. Face downright flaming, he hastily shoves himself back into his jeans, feeling decidedly off-balance and, _horrifyingly_ enough, aroused.

"U-uhm... you--yeah, I could-- coy might work. I don't- I don't think I really know what that, uh... means, in terms of my, uh, expression. But- I could look it up."

* * *

This is more than likely bordering on inappropriate but hey, Tony's not a stranger to such behavior and Peter's response is telling. The youth jerks and Tony can tell that Peter's struggling with the proximity and words and Tony knows that it's the _good_ kind of struggle. It's not just uncomfortable or unsure - no - there's a degree of arousal.

And Tony smiles, pleased as punch as Peter stumbles over his own response. There's something to be said for sultry confidence - Tony definitely has an appreciation for experience - but Peter's combined awkward earnestness is doing it for him. Tony figures it's because he knows that he _can't_ have Peter, so naturally Peter's appeal has shot through the roof. Can't have, still want to have, will tease instead. It's a cycle at this point.

Tony's hands squeeze one last time before they're removed. "I'm sure you'll figure it out, Pete." He turns around and strolls out of the bathroom, figuring that Peter will need a few minutes to calm down.

* * *

**[After the third live performance, the theme sexy songs...]**

**[After the third live performance...]**

Against all odds, Peter doesn't go home after the third week's 'Sexy Song' challenge. Tony, much to Peter's endless embarrassment, looks smug and keeps referencing, 'coy' whenever he can afterwards, which is honestly great and awful at the same time. As now Peter's kind of beginning to _feel_ like part of the competition and the other people in his house are beginning to feel the same way.

The easygoing smiles are a little tighter and Peter's encountered a little bullying, but it's nothing he can't handle. Besides, when it really comes down to it, he also has a decidedly _good_ thing he can fall back on: Tony.

Peter does what he'd promised and, every night that Tony sends him something - usually dirty talk to the tenth degree - though it pains him to do it, he deletes it, but not without getting off hard enough to see stars. He honestly has to take a few more 'bathroom breaks' now than he ever had before, every time he thinks about Tony a little too much and especially when he thinks about their text thing. He's still careful, though. He's decidedly _not obvious_.

_He's_ not obvious. But as he follows Tony down a hallway after rehearsal, having left the camera crews behind, Peter's not expecting to suddenly have Tony spin, grab him, and pull him into a small nook in the hallway. He's not expecting it, but he's _really_ not complaining. Not really. He understands instantly.

"Wh--but you said-- is this safe?" Peter whispers, his pulse pounding in his throat.

* * *

Despite Peter's assurance that his texts are being deleted nightly, Tony still knows that everything he's doing is, most assuredly, a bad decision. That doesn't stop him from continuing to flood Peter's phone with filthy messages of various fantasies, however. But now that he knows Peter is an actual _virgin_, Tony has at least told himself that he's_ not_ going to fuck Peter.

Because Peter deserves a good first time. Something loving and sweet and with someone around his own age. Tony _can_ actually employ some self-restraint here.

Actually, he's been doing pretty good, thanks. He hasn't done anything physical with Peter. A few touches in passing, but nothing obvious and untoward. Tony hasn't driven to the contestant's house and texted Peter to come out for another car rendezvous. It's all been in subtle glances and horribly sexual texts.

Until today when he decides to give himself a little break and have just a little taste. Impulse control? MIA. Peter pinned against a wall and his body doing the pinning? Full tilt. Camera and other staff? MIA (for now). Tony grins as his hands come to rest on Peter's shoulders before running down slender arms.

"It's safe if we're quick and you're quiet," Tony murmurs, a feral glint in his eye. _Just a taste, just a taste._ "You take your hand and cover your mouth to keep quiet, baby."

His own hand grasps Peter's wrist and lifts Peter's hand, directing a palm to cover Peter's mouth. He has no doubt that Peter will have a difficult time keeping quiet.

* * *

The wall is cold against Peter's back as he looks up at Tony, but there is absolutely no preparing him for the look of pure, undiluted _hunger_ in Tony's eyes. Peter feels his stomach do a very good impression of a bungee cord and his breath hitches a little in dizzying anticipation as Tony presses him back against the wall closer. Peter's eyes are wide, and while a part of him wants to babble questions about cameras and safety, Tony heads it off real fast.

The casual pet name sends a jolt of sweet arousal through Peter's body and he knows even before Tony takes his wrist and lifts it that this is going to kill him. His heart is racing in his chest as he struggles to catch up, but once he does? Peter nods and swallows, lifting his hand to his mouth under his own power.

He's pretty sure he'd had dreams like this before. Dreams of low whispers and stolen moments and _Tony_. Peter is way harder than he wants to be after a simple command and the feeling of his idol pressed up against him like living sin.

* * *

They only have time for a little taste - just a few minutes at most. Tony can feel Peter's body eagerly respond, the blatant line of Peter's arousal pressing against his thigh and it hits Tony low and _fuck_ he knows he wants more than just a taste. How could 'just a taste' ever be enough when Peter's getting hard this quick from the position and his order?

He's spent days texting dirty desires and what if scenarios to Peter and the urge to do any one of them rears its head like a ravenous beast. Tony knows what can happen in this little nook and it won't be anything physically explicit. This is scratching an itch. Just a taste, and maybe Peter Parker will stop being so damn desirable to him (somehow Tony thinks that that won't be the case).

Peter obeys and Tony can feel his own cock fill out from the sight. He actually needs to take in a steadying breath as he leans in and inhales the scent of Peter's shampoo, his nose grazing along Peter's soft cheek as he purposely presses his thigh against Peter's crotch. He doesn't move it, however, he just applies a bit of pressure.

"You're killin' me, Pete," Tony admits in a low murmur before he kisses underneath Peter's ear and then down the side of his throat that he has access to.

* * *

Peter feels his pulse like a drum beat in his chest, hard enough that he swears if he looked, he could see it moving his shirt. His palm starts out feeling hot against his face, but as Peter looks at Tony and the memory of all their texts comes flooding back, his hand suddenly feels cold. He's confused for as long as it takes for him to realize that his cheeks have to be burning with arousal, and then Peter leans his head back against the wall with a hitched breath.

This is like wet dream heaven. Peter's dizzy with it, with Tony leaning in, being _so_ damn close and smelling like his aftershave and kind of like sex. Peter clutches his hand tighter to his mouth, and it's absolutely necessary when Tony fits his thigh between Peter's legs. He jerks a little and then groans, and then immediately he tilts his head back and closes his eyes, shutting his mouth firmly.

It's the scrape of Tony's stubble against his throat that makes his knees feel weak with the spike of arousal. Peter _wants_, and he locks away everything in his mind. The solid press of Tony's thigh, the scrape of stubble, the warmth of his lips, and the rich, silken smoothness of his voice. Peter muffles another small sound behind his hand and reaches out, shakily gripping at Tony's jacket with his free hand.

* * *

Each of Peter's reactions push and encourage Tony to go further, to want to do _more_. As much as there's a thrill in needing to be quiet in order to not be caught, Tony very much would like to hear how loud and responsive Peter could get. He's never been able to _hear_ Peter get off, never witnessed it. He's thought of calling Peter, of talking him through it because a little ole' fashioned phone sex never hurt anyone, but he didn't want anyone else to overhear them in the house. That'd be disastrous for Peter.

The muffled sounds will have to do and when Peter's other hand grasps onto his leather jacket, Tony bites his own bottom lip so that he _doesn't_ bite Peter's neck. He wants to. He wants to mark up Peter's pretty pale skin with suck marks that have Peter wincing from dual pleasure-pain, but a random bruise would be evidence.

"So easy for me, so responsive," Tony praises in between kisses. "Got me all hot and bothered," he continues and he reaches for Peter's hand that's holding onto his jacket. He tugs at it until Peter lets go and he then relocates Peter's hand to the bulge at his crotch. "_You_ did this to me, baby."

* * *

Peter swears that he's never felt _this_ hard this quickly before, not even when he'd been 15. He feels legitimately dizzy and he has to use the wall as stability as Tony kisses at his throat, at his jaw, and at that spot _right_ below Peter's ear that makes his knees go weak. He's not even surprised that Tony is going for it. He's not surprised that Tony seems to instinctively know just what to do to get Peter embarrassingly desperate despite the fact that Peter had never told him any of his more sensitive spots.

The praise - rough and sweet and thrilling - has Peter aching, but when Tony takes his hand and then suddenly moves it down until-- until Peter feels the hot line of Tony's cock through his slacks, Peter feels his knees actually almost give out. He's so hard that it hurts, his cock straining against the front of his jeans, because _this_ is something else. Peter closes his eyes tight, trying to keep his cool, but there's no earthly way that he can stop himself from carefully spreading his fingers and _feeling_ the line of Tony's cock.

It's big and hot and perfect except for the fact that Peter doesn't have his fingers wrapped around it _right now_. He's not that stupid, though. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't rub, doesn't touch and learn the feel and shape with a furrow to his brow that says he'll be fantasizing with _much_ better accuracy later.

* * *

Tony is absolutely enthralled with how eager and responsive Peter is. He feels Peter shake against him, feels how insistent Peter's erection is against the muscle of his thigh, he feels the tension of _wanting_ and _restraining_ warring within Peter and it's absolutely the perfect sin. Tony's the reason and he basks in the desire and desperation practically radiating off of the kid. It's intoxicating and Tony's always been a sucker for a good drink.

Peter, for all his inexperience, doesn't take the opportunity to touch Tony's clothed dick for granted - slender fingers moving and questing. Even through the layers it's good (too good). Tony's arousal feels like a fucking wardrum pounding with each beat of his heart. He wants to both wreck and worship Peter and the ferocity in which he feels these desires is honestly startling.

Without any warning, he's grabbing at Peter's hand and lifting it away from his crotch. Tony brings Peter's wrist up to his mouth and he's kissing at it, his lips grazing up Peter's forearm before kissing at the back of Peter's hand.

"Shit, we gotta calm down," Tony hisses while he directs Peter's arm back to his side. His thigh is still against Peter's dick and it's with reluctance that Tony steps back, his chest heaving.

* * *

This is so dangerous. Anyone could come walking by, anyone with _cameras_, and then everything would be over, but Peter honestly can't bring himself to try and shove Tony away. It's like a whirlwind of sensation, of dizzying, perfect everything that leaves him breathless and aching and so aroused it's not even funny. Tony's dick is hard and hot under Peter's hand even through layers of clothing, and Peter suddenly wonders if Tony would let him touch for real. Even if this is just supposed to be a _text_ thing, Tony already broke the rules, so maybe--

Tony's hand moves quick before Peter can do anything and, startled, Peter looks at Tony. He watches, brow pinched, as Tony pulls his hand _away_ from the line of his cock, and Peter honestly considers fighting to get it back. But then Tony's lips are on his arm, his wrist, his hand, and Peter hadn't even known that was _sensitive _until now, but it all goes right to his dick.

It is honestly, _truly_ torturous to have Tony draw back. Peter makes a small sound, breathing harder, his face flushed, his jeans very obviously tented, and his shirt and hair both rumpled. He looks at Tony like he wants nothing more than to push him back and crawl onto his lap, but--

Cameras. Right. Cameras. Peter swallows tightly and lets his head fall back against the wall. He finally slides his hand down, breathing harder, aching for more but not willing to push as he nods. "Yeah... yeah, _fuck_, yeah, we-- we should. You said we weren't supposed to... God, Mr. Stark."

* * *

Tony knows what he'd said. Keep it to texts because texts are just digital words that could then be deleted. Texts are harmless... but maybe not so harmless because Tony had worked himself up and Tony is rather used to getting what he wants. He'd wanted just a taste and he'd pulled Peter here and pinned him, kissed along his skin, felt his erection, put Peter's hand on his own. He hadn't even tasted Peter's _mouth_ and the itch is still there, blazing and demanding and aggravating because it's within reach and Tony knows he can't. Shouldn't. He hates those words. Fuck those words.

It's not easy to back away because he hears Peter make a displeased sound. And Peter looks so obviously manhandled from barely doing anything and Tony's cock aches. God, he has it bad. He needs to get laid after this. Needs to get his dick wet in some pretty thing's tight hole - any hole would do.

No. It wouldn't. And that's the fucking problem, isn't it?

"Go to the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up," Tony says with a rough voice. He reaches into his own pants and pulls his dick up, letting the waistband of his boxers hold it back - a trick he's used numerous times over the years. He licks his lips before his eyes take one last lingering look at Peter before he strides away.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally posted this. Oops. -_- Gonna let it be... - merry

* * *

* * *

**[After rehearsals, later that night]**

Tony Stark is an absolute wreck. He does try and call someone, but the someone that gets sent to him won't do. Of course she wouldn't do. She wasn't Peter and Tony knows that it's not even the gender that's the problem. Some twinky little guy wouldn't do either. He's pissed that he's in this position and he knows it's entirely his own fault (which is usually the case).

He Googles images of Peter, his eyes hungry for anything. He watches Peter's live performances on YouTube while he jerks off but it doesn't take the edge away. He knows what he needs to do. Texts would never be enough again.

Tony specifically picks the Escalade to drive over to see Peter. This time the lights are off and this time after he sends the text he gets out of the driver's side and is waiting for Peter outside his SUV. He's got tinted blue glasses on, an open suit jacket over an old Vixen t-shirt and faded jeans. Tony feels like shit because he already knows how this is going to play out, but he doesn't move or send a text calling it off. He waits.

* * *

Peter doesn't bother asking _why_ he's going to meet Tony that night. He just does it. Even hours later he still feels a little shaken by the incident in the hallway, but a good kind of shaken. The kind that has him buzzing with restless energy that's bad enough that even Peter's housemates send him an odd look or two before they retire to bed. Not _everyone_ is gone by the time he leaves, but considering how restless he's been, when he tells them he's going out for a walk, they just wave him off. Peter doesn't linger.

He makes his way outside, throwing an open zipped hoodie on as he does so, his sneakers squeaking a little on the stairs. He doesn't run, he makes himself walk, but Peter can't help but be nervous with anticipation too.

The way he sees it, this could be really good or _really_ bad, and he's anxious to know which.

So when he sees the Escalade in the dark, muted area of the road, Peter hesitates. Then he sees Tony standing outside of the car and Peter stops completely for a second before quickening his pace. He's practically thrumming with nervous energy when he finally makes it to Tony's SUV. Peter looks at him, quick, prompting, and shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

"Hi--hey, Mr. Stark. Is everything okay?"

* * *

Tony's cock is traitorously half-hard by the time he makes out the lithe form of Peter Parker making his way over. He wets his lips and swallows. Curiously, there are a few nerves present but he ignores them. Nerves are nothin' new for Tony, they just mean that he's amped up which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Tony knows how his text had read - blunt and rude - so Peter's uncertainty, both in his voice and posture, makes sense. Tony wishes that Peter's devotion in the face of uncertainty didn't fucking turn him on, but it does. Tony's long known that he's scummy and he'll prove it to Peter soon enough.

He doesn't answer Peter verbally, but he takes out his key fob, unlocks his doors and then opens the backseat door. Tony's then pushing Peter into the backseat and climbing in after him. He locks the doors, shoving the fob back in his suit jacket before he's yanking it off and tossing it in the front seat.

"Took a page out of your book. Watched your live performances and jerked off to you," Tony admits as his hands go to his fly and he undoes the button and drags down the zipper.

* * *

There is a very small part of Peter that can't help but worry that this is going to be one of those 'this was a mistake' talks. In Peter's opinion, that would suck on multiple levels, because really, if he's going to have someone cut him off, he'd rather have _done_ something first instead of been forced to jerk off awkwardly in a bathroom.

He gets his first hint that maybe this isn't going to be a lecture when Tony takes out his key fob and unlocks the door. Peter glances at him, frowning, curious, and just as he begins to wonder if Tony's jeans are looking a bit tight, a hand grabs at him, he stumbles with a small, bitten-off sound, and Tony shoves him into the SUV.

It is... really, really not a graceful landing. Peter sprawls awkwardly, stunned, but then Tony is climbing in after him and oh, _oh_, fuck, okay. Peter hastily eases himself back, looking up at him with rapt attention, but what Tony says - about jerking off to him - makes something hot claw through Peter's chest. He swallows and wets his lips, but it's the sight of Tony's hand suddenly dropping down - to his _zipper_ \- that has Peter letting out a breathless sound of realization.

"A-are you-- is this--? Are you really..." Peter begins, but no questions make sense. He just watches, rapt, and already he feels his dick filling out. "Oh my god."

* * *

Yeah, this is taking it a step further, but that damnable itch, that pounding, it's still there._ Just a taste_ had been a horrible decision and precursor to this because Tony feels so fucking horny that it's actually fucking with him. Earlier that night he'd tried to think back to shit that his therapist had told him - mindfulness, meditation, getting control of his desires, but that had gotten him even _more _pissed off because he hates feeling like he's spiralling out of control.

Controlled chaos? That's fine. He's always been a wild child, but _spiralling_? He's not a fan of it. He knows where it _can_ go and he can't have that happen.

"I guarantee you that God is no where around us," Tony remarks as works his half-hard cock out. "God isn't even a fucking _thing_." A part of his brain is tempted to go on some religious tirade but he holds himself back. Tony's right hand grips at the base of his dick and he begins stroking himself. The hand closest to Peter reaches out, fingers running through soft brown hair before gripping as he urges Peter to slide in next to him. He then pushes Peter's face down against the side of his neck, uncaring what Peter wants.

"We're real. Just you and me, baby, and all this fucking tension and want thrumming between us. Feels like it's driving me crazy." Tony laughs bitterly as his dick hardens and leaks against his hand.

* * *

Peter has no idea where this is going but there isn't a part of him that isn't rapt and on board. Maybe Tony looks a little... off. Manic, hungry, fixated or something, Peter doesn't know, but it doesn't flicker his needle because that's how Peter's been feeling for days, too. He's not going to complain.

What Tony _says_ does give him slight pause, but Peter doesn't fully pay attention to it. For obvious reasons. As, while he's sure it had been important, Tony just up and pulls his cock out from his pants and Peter makes a small, punched-out sound of arousal. He stares, drinks in the sight for the time he's allowed, but then Tony's fingers are in his hair, tighter, gripping, and urging, and it sends sparks of sensation down Peter's spine.

The end result is... Peter doesn't know what it is. He feels wired and aroused, but his view of Tony's cock is suddenly cut off when Tony forces Peter's head down, tucking his face into the side of Tony's neck, holding him close and firm. It's hot and Peter's senses are suddenly awash in Tony's scent and his touch and his voice and the knowledge of what he's doing, but he can't _see_.

It only strikes him when Tony laughs, the sound bitter, that Tony not letting him see is probably intentional. And... oh. Okay. Peter's connecting a few dots, or trying to. Because even if he can't see it, Tony's still touching himself, still warm and real and firm and Peter's already hard.

"It's-- It's driving me crazy too," Peter says quickly, and after a heart-pounding moment, he dares to kiss at Tony's neck, dares to lick at his skin, all hot and dizzying. "Can I help? Just--just tell me how, I'll do it. I promise."

* * *

If he gets off with Peter near and indirectly involved, maybe it'll sate something within him, quiet the scream, feed the beast... These hopes are paper fucking thin, but it's all Tony has. It's what he's clinging to. He can't let this nineteen-year-old kid fuck him up. He's a professional. He has a job to do. He has to judge a fucking singing competition show and not mess that up by wanting to fuck the contestant on _his_ team. Tony still wants Peter to win, too. Peter deserves the win. Tony can see Peter killing it and creating kickass music and Tony's fucking sexual deviancy could wreck it all--

But Peter is sweet and doesn't pull away or push back. After everything, Tony has the sick realization that Peter likely _trusts_ him. That realization, the implication of Tony taking advantage of that trust _should_ give him limp dick, but nope, why would Tony's dick care?

He knows it's driving Peter crazy too, but Peter is a horny barely adult virgin with a crush. It's not the same. It never would be. Soft lips suddenly press a chaste kiss against his neck and it's so fucking gratifying that Tony wants to scoff at himself. (Who's being easy now?) The slip of a tongue is next and Tony gives a ragged groan as Peter tries to offer help.

"Yeah? I know you would do it," Tony starts tightly. "I could push your head down and fuck your mouth and you'd take it like a champ." And a part of him wants to. A part of him really wants to feel Peter's throat gag around him and Peter struggle but push himself because Peter wouldn't - couldn't stop. A part of him wants a wet, messy blowjob until he's fucking exploding into the kid's mouth and forcing him to swallow every last drop.

But that's too dangerous. So, Tony's hand moves steadily, his grip tight. "Just stay right where you are. Don't move." And Tony's eyes close, his fingers remaining in Peter's hair. This has to be enough.

* * *

Peter can feel his own breath on his face, reflecting from Tony's skin. If he can feel it then Tony can too, and the knowledge makes Peter ache with the want to actually do something. He can hear the rustle of fabric, knows that Tony's hand is probably moving over his dick. He can hear Tony's breaths, harder, labored, a little hitched, and Peter desperately wants to know why. Wants to know what movement of Tony's hand had _caused_ that sound. Wants to know because some ridiculously stupid part of him legitimately wants this.

He _wants_ what Tony's been texting him over the past few days. He wants to taste and touch and look. He wants to know what Tony's dick tastes like on his tongue. He wants to know how it feels. But at that moment, Tony's grip tight in Peter's hair, he'd settle for just being able to watch.

But that isn't what happens. Tony talks and Peter can hear his voice vibrating through his throat, can feel it against his lips. It's intimate and heady, and all it takes is the suggestion of Tony shoving him down and fucking his mouth to make Peter's mouth water with anticipation. But Tony doesn't actually _do_ that. He just holds Peter's hair tighter - tight enough to hurt - and tells him not to move.

Peter makes a small sound, something between breathless, insanely aroused, and frustrated, but he doesn't dare argue. He doesn't want Tony to change his mind, and even if he can't see, he can hear and smell and feel. So Peter stays there, lips brushing Tony's throat, his own breathing quicker, hotter.

"I'd let you," he says without meaning to. "Fuck--fuck my mouth, I mean." Peter squirms. "God, could I-- would you let me see? Just see. I don't need to touch if you don't want me to, but I want to see you, Mr. Stark."

* * *

Tony is also being terribly unfair here. He's talked (texted) up his game, sharing all his perverted fantasies with Peter. _Detailed _fantasies. Desires of him doing stuff to Peter but also Peter doing shit to him because he knows that Peter might actually want that more than the reverse (which Tony can't allow himself to think about).

And now he's denying Peter on more than one front. He doesn't want Peter's hand or mouth on him (he does). Tony doesn't want Peter to see how fucking worked up and selfish he is (he can't). Tony had spouted off about the many numerous things he'd love to do to Peter and he's not doing any of it. Driving here tonight, Tony had no intention of getting Peter off.

He's an asshole, but he doesn't feel bad enough to stop (story of his life). Peter's frustrated sound isn't _just_ because Tony told him to stay still. Tony knows the sound is also frustrated arousal. What's worse is that Tony is sure that Peter would be okay _not_ getting off as long as he was able to get _Tony _off.

The kid squirms, asking just to see while relinquishing the idea of touching, and there's something both pathetic and ridiculously hot about Peter desperate for scraps - once again, Tony Stark is an asshole.

Tony curses under his breath, his nails digging into Peter's scalp before his hold eases somewhat. Given the darkness in the vehicle and the tinted glasses he has on, Peter wouldn't be able to even see much. Tony does consider it. It'd be easy enough for Peter to lift his head up and try and watch.

"C'mon, be a good boy for me," Tony says, voice slightly admonishing as he tries for a different direction. It's guilt tripping, but he doesn't care. This is hardly the biggest of his sins. "Be good and you kiss at my neck. Give me a hickie if you want. Leave your mark."

* * *

Maybe Peter is begging for scraps but he doesn't care. This is the man he's been fantasizing about for years, the man who had single-handedly sparked Peter's interest in music for real. It's because of Tony that he's in this competition, and it's _definitely_ because of Tony that he's here in the back of his SUV, achingly hard, desperate, and... yeah, kind of begging. Not to be touched, just to be allowed to see.

God, he wants to see Tony so bad, to lock it away in the back of his mind. He wants to touch, too, but seeing is all he's asking for.

But instead of giving in, Tony's grip in Peter's hair tightens, the scratch of nails over his scalp sharp enough to hurt. It does ease, but Peter's scalp still stings. He's about to ask again, a little more confused, when Tony finally answers him, and the words might not really mean much alone, but the _tone_... oh, yeah, that does.

Tony sounds like Peter's made a misstep, like he's called Tony by his first name or something. It's quick, barely-there, but Peter feels the unpleasant twist of guilt quickly overtake him. He stills, then swallows, and doesn't hesitate to take the option that Tony gives him. And, nodding, still a little breathless but significantly less obvious in what he _really_ wants, Peter turns his full attention onto Tony's throat.

He licks at the warm skin, kisses at it, even scrapes his teeth over it as he does exactly what Tony had said. Peter's dick is hard enough to hurt but he doesn't touch it. Instead he grips his hands tight in his hoodie and throws everything he has into drawing a mark up onto Tony's throat.

* * *

Tony's good at getting what he wants and it's no different here as he guilt trips Peter _away_ from what the kid actually wants. At least he offers Peter a bone - the chance to kiss and bite and suck at his neck and legitimately leave a mark. That's something, right? Cindy who does his makeup will take care of it. It's no skin off his back and nothing she hasn't seen or dealt with before. Lifestyles of the rich and the famous and all...

If he hadn't gotten off earlier, Tony has a feeling he'd have spilled over his hand as soon as Peter first kissed his neck. But as that isn't the case, Tony gets to enjoy Peter's presence for a bit longer. He gets to enjoy Peter's thigh pressing against his, smaller and still warm through the fabric. He gets to enjoy Peter's breath against his skin, the smell and feel of his hair. But it's Peter beginning to work at leaving a mark that gets Tony close.

"Fuck, that's good," Tony praises when the teeth come out to play. "You can bite harder, suck harder." If he's going to get a bruise from Peter, might as well go big or go home. Tony's fingers stroke through Peter's hair encouragingly as his hand speeds up. "So hard for you, Pete, so fucking hard. My balls ache."

It's not an exaggeration. The prospect of orgasm and Peter's proximity almost feels like a hit of heroin at this point.

* * *

Peter feels... he honestly doesn't know. There's guilt there, a small dash of shame, but not at what he's doing, at how much he'd wanted and asked for out of nowhere. He'd just thought-- after everything that Tony's been texting him, and given the dark of the SUV and Tony actually having his dick out _anyway_... But he'd slipped up, had pushed a little too hard, and while he wants fiercely, he makes himself breathe, makes himself focus on what Tony _does_ allow him to do.

God, maybe Peter had pushed too far, maybe his cock is aching so fiercely that it's going to hurt later when he does get off, but there is absolutely nothing hotter than the sound of Tony praising him. It wipes some of the earlier sting away, draws a soft, desperate sound from his throat, and Peter shudders when Tony pets his hair, encouraging, and Peter doesn't hesitate to push harder. He sucks a little harder, and when he bites at Tony's throat, it's with a carefully-growing pressure, like he's trying to make sure not to actually hurt him while still trying his damndest to get _some_ of his pent-up energy out.

But hearing Tony call him 'Pete' so casually has him aching all over again. Peter shudders against him and he takes one of his hands from his hoodie and sets it between his own legs, pressing down just to try and ease some of the ache there.

"Me--me too, Mr. Stark. Just-- just tell me if I bite too hard," he adds, breathlessly, and when he bites at Tony's throat again, it is harder, tighter, and he sucks hard enough that the mark will likely be a pain to cover up later.

* * *

Tony may offer the hickie as a distraction for Peter, but that doesn't mean that he's not into it. Because he is. He's _so_ into Peter's mouth and teeth and tongue on his throat and coaxing out a bruise or maybe even bruises. Tony's traitorous mind is already wondering how Peter's mouth would feel against _other_ parts of his body. More than that desire is Tony's want to kiss Peter _everywhere_.

But this is supposed to be it. This has to be it. (Who's Tony kidding, why would this be it?)

Peter listens to him - because of course Peter does - and Peter bites harder, discomfort flaring at Tony's throat, but Tony doesn't mind. It's simply another layer on top of all the other sensations. Tony's grip is dry save for the times where he swipes his thumb over his slit and finds precome there. Tony's eyes remain tightly shut, his body so fucking wired as he gets closer to orgasm.

His fingers continue to touch through Peter's slightly sweaty, but still so soft hair. Peter deserves better than this rushed disappointment, but shit, Tony hadn't wanted things to get this far. They _shouldn't_ have gotten this far. But he can't stop now, his hand ruthlessly jerks himself and when Tony begins to seize up, Peter's name is hissed out amidst curses. Tony's hand cups the head of his cock to try and catch his come to minimize the mess.

* * *

Peter focuses hard on everything he can manage. The quick pulse he can feel against his lips, the scent of salt and sweat and sex and Tony's unique aftershave, his warmth and the slow, encouraging stroke of Tony's fingers through his hair - like he's doing something worth praising - and the wet sound of Tony's hand supposedly jerking himself off. It's not much but it's enough, and as Peter listens, he hears Tony's breathing hitch, hears the sudden tightness to his voice, and he swears he can _hear_ it when Tony begins to come.

His pulse flutters and pounds, his breathing stops, and then it's like a rush of sensation. Peter feels Tony's arm move, hears Tony hiss out his name, and he almost comes in his own pants from that alone. He makes a smaller, desperate sound, something both aroused and disappointed, because he'd wanted to be able to see. He still does. But Peter doesn't draw back.

He stays there, releasing the bite on Tony's neck, and he breathes soft encouragement against Tony's skin. He might not be able to see, but he can still hear, and Tony sounds wrecked.

He already knows that this isn't going anywhere. Already knows that there is a _very_ high chance that Tony will tell him to head back to his house before someone notices he's gone. But for that moment, he drinks in everything he can, breathless, needy, and painfully aroused.

* * *

The evidence of what he's done is hot and sticky in his hand and dripping down his spent cock. Tony feels sweaty and uncomfortable but the pounding desire has receded (for now). It's an honest respite, one that Tony basks in as he tries to catch his breath. Peter stops the hickie pursuit (and from the feel of the ache in his neck, Tony's sure the kid succeeded anyway). Peter's soft breath ghosts along his neck and Tony knows that Peter is just waiting to be told what to do or - worse - to go.

And Tony knows what he's going with. He doesn't deviate from his plan.

"Get out," Tony says, his voice dispassionate. "Can't be gone too long. Live show tomorrow. Get some sleep."

Peter doesn't protest but it's obvious enough the kid is shaken up and confused while still horny. Tony hates it almost as much as he hates himself. He wipes his hand on his boxers and does his jeans back up. He doesn't move to the front seat until Peter's gone back into the house. A coldness settles over Tony, his skin feels clammy.

He ignores Peter's texts that night and the next day. Cindy gives him a fond look as she works her best at covering up the purple marks along his throat and neck. Business waits for no man and they have a show to put on.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, probably should have given a heads up about certain abysmal Tony behavior last chapter but I hadn't planned on posting it (and there's going to be more bad behavior incoming anyway so strap in). Anyway, I just wanted to say that both authors are very much aware of the power imbalance/dysfunctional/unhealthy aspects and while we can and do enjoy exploring those dynamics, this isn't about glorifying shitty relationships and bad behavior and things WILL eventually get better. 
> 
> But for now enjoy! - merry

* * *

Tony doesn't respond to any of Peter's prompting texts before the live show, and to say that Peter is distracted would be an understatement. He's preoccupied with the confusion he's still feeling after Tony had dismissed him the night before, because despite understanding, Peter has the odd feeling that he'd done something _wrong_. Tony ignoring his texts only makes that more apparent.

It's official the night of the live show, because Peter _does_ do something wrong. He mixes up the verses of the song he's singing - it's just for a second, but it's long enough for the cold grip of nerves and shame to wash over him. He's decidedly off-balance for the rest of the evening and when the judges give their critiques (and in Tony's case, praise) Peter can only just meet their eyes.

He doesn't meet Tony's. The thought of having just disappointed him is way too strong.

Waiting for the live results show is Hell. Peter's housemates - fewer now - do tease him and the cameras eagerly try to pick up drama, but Peter feels way too wretched to think about engaging the way the producers clearly want him to. He's terrified that night, and Tony still doesn't respond to Peter's apologetic texts, and it just makes it worse.

Peter is honestly, _truly_ expecting to go home the following night. He puts on a smile like he always does but he's bracing for it. So when he's the fourth person to be announced as _safe_, he looks up, whip-quick and blinks at the host, stunned beyond measure as the crowd erupts into congratulatory applause. Peter gapes, and it takes an elbow from one of his housemates to get him to stumble back off the stage.

Even as he watches the bottom three announce themselves, Peter gapes, stunned, because... he didn't go home. His fans apparently hadn't been disappointed. _America_ hadn't been disappointed. Peter can't even begin to touch on how relieved he feels.

* * *

To say that Tony was distracted during the results show would be an understatement. He fakes it well, though and when Peter isn't in the bottom three, Tony's guilt and anxiety dial back down. He still feels like shit because he knows he's the reason that Peter had fucked up to begin with. Any text would have likely been better than radio silence. Tony hates being ignored and it's especially awkward because they have to interact on the show and in front of the cameras. The whole thing is a mess.

Tony goes through the motions, both encouraging with the two acts that have one last chance to impress them, and snarky with his fellow judges. He debates texting Peter on a commercial break, but Tony honestly doesn't know what he'd say. He can't excuse away his bad behavior (but you bet your life that he'll try anyway).

It's after the show and before the remaining contestants are carted back to the house that Tony speaks up and says he wants a word with Peter. Now that the numbers are dwindling, judge's favoritism isn't as big of a deal. No one really blinks twice and Tony promises the producers a heart-to-heart talk for the cameras _next_ rehearsal. So, even with cast and crew around, Tony strides over to Peter, places a hand on his shoulder and directs him away from the group of contestants, simply stating that he wants to have a little chat.

Tony takes them to a private room and once the door is closed, he's giving an exhausted sigh and pulling the kid into a hug.

"This was my fault," he says quietly, his arms wrapped around Peter's low back and holding tightly. It could turn sexual in the blink of an eye - and the interest is still there - but Tony focuses on trying to do some much needed damage control.

* * *

Peter tries not to feel bad when it's Sean who gets eliminated. He really does. But considering that Sean had been the one to sneer the most about Peter's mistake the other day, he's nowhere near as empathetic as he should be. Still, as has been done every time, Peter stands with the rest of the remaining contestants after the show ends and he's already turning to head on back to the house when he feels a hand suddenly on his shoulder. Peter turns, expecting to see one of the other guys, so when he sees _Tony_, Peter freezes.

He quickly shields the shock out of his expression though. And, though he's immediately confused and a little wary, he does let Tony lead him away. In Peter's experience, a 'little chat' is never good, and so he's more than a little concerned when Tony leads him into a private room.

Peter's already trying to think of what to say, of what kind of excuse he could feasibly give, but before he can do more than think about what he'd done wrong, Tony's arms are suddenly _there_, wrapped around him tightly. Peter freezes, stunned, and it means that Tony is able to pull him in closer to a hug that feels...

Amazing. It feels amazing. And, almost like a puppet with its strings cut, Peter sags a little into the hug and sets his forehead on Tony's shoulder.

There's a lot he could say, but what he finally comes out with is: "Did I do something wrong? Not--not on the show. I know I messed that up."

* * *

Initially Peter seems stunned by what he's done, but then Peter is practically melting into the hug and Tony lets him. He supports the smaller body, a disgusting part of himself enjoying this increase in closeness, in being able to feel Peter pressed into him, in _holding him_ even. Tony's grasp is tight and he bends his head down, his nose pressing into Peter's hair.

"Shh, baby, no," Tony soothes and he's pressing a kiss into Peter's hair. He can't help it. The need to comfort and assure Peter seems of the utmost importance right now. "You didn't do anything wrong. Not in the hallway and not in the backseat."

Peter's going to ask _what happened_. Tony knows it. Of course Peter will ask because Tony had been hot-warm-then-cold and then silent. Such radical behavior needs _some _explanation and Tony honestly doesn't know what to say, doesn't even know where to begin. Peter hadn't asked for this. Tony's started everything. It's all on his shoulders and he's not good enough to do what's right and know how to fix this.

* * *

This isn't like _anything_ they've talked about and Peter honestly doesn't know what to think aside from a wave of relief that Tony's giving him this moment. Before the incident in Tony's SUV, they'd only sent flirty texts back and forth. Tony had talked occasionally about other things, asking Peter a little about himself, but hugging? That is... a level of care - or at least connection - that doesn't _fit_ the last few weeks of texting.

But Peter isn't complaining. He feels Tony's face in his hair, feels the steady breathing and heat of them, feels the kiss, and there's something about the low, soothing, reassuring murmur that makes something thick settle in Peter's throat. His eyes don't burn, but they do come close; it's been a really, _really_ rough 48 hours.

"I thought..." He swallows, aware that even like this, his voice sounds a bit rougher. He reaches out then, tentative, and touches Tony's jacket.

"I didn't-- I _don't_ mind nothing else happening if that's what you want. You said it wasn't going to be anything but a text thing. But you didn't... the texts. You stopped, and I didn't know what to think."

* * *

What Tony needs to do is somehow backtrack and get their working relationship back in order. He needs to admit that it had been a blatant mistake and abuse of power to text and flirt and encourage anything sexual between them. He needs to apologize for his despicable behavior and assure Peter that nothing like that will ever happen again - but that it's not at all Peter's fault.

Tony could claim that it's for Peter's career, that Tony doesn't want to jeopardize anything - that the show has rules about this kind of thing (he's sure that there's _something_ there). There's a metric ton of reasons available to Tony.

But as he hears Peter's rougher voice and Peter trying to give Tony an out - Tony wants to fucking kick the out in the nuts on principle. Tony isn't going to take the out. He knows it. This had been his one chance. He knows it with such a staggering clarity, too.

Peter deserves the same courtesy though.

"It's not what I want," Tony murmurs with a shake of his head. He backs them into a corner, his back against the wall this time. He practically crushes Peter to his chest.

"I gave you a chance with the texts for me to stop and I'm giving you another one now. _I_ don't want to stop, baby. But I'm bad for you. I'm a mess. You _should_ tell me to stop."

Even as he finishes it, Tony's kissing at the top of Peter's head.

* * *

Peter knows that Tony doesn't owe him anything. It's a mutual attraction, and even _he's_ not stupid enough to think that it's more than a sex thing. Oh, if Tony pushed for more, he'd take it in a second, but Peter does know better. He's not that much of an idiot.

Except... there's an implication in Tony's voice. A hint. And suddenly Peter's getting a few smaller mixed signals. He feels Tony's grip tighten, feels Tony take a step back, and Peter follows him because he isn't given a choice.

Tony leans over and sets his own back against the wall, pulling Peter against him so tight that it almost hurts. It's warm, though, Tony's body firm and his scent familiar and welcoming. Peter feels a sharp twist in his chest, and it only gets worse when Tony keeps calling him _baby_, because... that feels good. Good in a way it shouldn't.

Because Tony doesn't want to stop. Peter feels his heart suddenly leap, pounding hard in his throat as he buries his face against Tony's shoulder. He feels the vibration of Tony's voice and hearing what he says, that he thinks Peter _should_ tell him to stop... Peter does think about it. But he really, really doesn't want to.

It's reckless. It's stupid. But feeling Tony against him like this, how is he supposed to say no?

"I don't want you to stop," Peter says, and maybe he doesn't know the gravity of what he's saying, what it _really_ means, but he knows it's the answer he wants to give. "I really, _really_ don't want you to. Is that okay?"

* * *

Tony says that Peter _should_ tell him to stop, but he doesn't _want_ that to be Peter's answer. This - them - it's a messy complication. Complications are nothing new for Tony, but Peter is a nineteen-year-old kid competing in a show he's backing, judging on and under his mentorship. This is a scandal waiting to explode and maybe this time it would be enough to sink Tony.

As he holds Peter and waits for his sentence to be handed down, Tony already feels like he's sinking, but it's into Peter Parker. It's into sweet eyes and an angelic voice, into a lithe body that responds so well to him. Is it a death sentence or freedom that Peter offers him? Tony's not certain, but Peter doesn't want him to stop and Tony is fucking invigorated with relief and something else. Anticipation? Fear?

It doesn't matter.

"Yeah, it's okay, baby. It's more than okay," Tony whispers into Peter's hair. How's he so damn lucky for Peter to give him another chance? Tony hasn't even apologized. He should apologize. But instead of doing that, his hands lift and come to cup Peter's cheeks as he angles Peter's face up.

"Can I kiss you?" Tony asks, his eyes imploring. Kissing is better than apologizing. Kissing is _always _better than apologizing.

* * *

Is it any wonder why Peter wants this? This is Tony Stark. This is the man he's looked up to for years, who's actually interested in him for some unfathomable reason. Peter can't explain it, can't really figure out why, just like he still doesn't know what that thing in the SUV had been about. What he does know is that he doesn't want to stop, doesn't want Tony to stop texting him or smirking at him or teasing him.

Or holding him, now that he's experiencing that.

So when Tony soothes him with soft names and an almost cajoling reassurance, Peter closes his eyes and soaks it up. And when hands come to his cheeks and Tony asks to _kiss_ him? Peter opens his eyes, looks up at Tony and lets out a shaky, awed breath.

"You... really? You-- yes," Peter breathes immediately, looking from Tony's eyes down to his lips with a pang of very obvious wonder and want. "Yeah, absolutely, you can kiss me."

* * *

Tony tries to tell himself that it's fine, that he has Peter's permission in this. He's tried to warn the kid, to give him an out, and Peter doesn't want it. Peter wants _him_ and maybe it's just because he's _Tony Stark_ and Peter is just an awestruck fan, but that's not Tony's problem. Tony can't change who he is.. It's possible that, going forward with this, either one of them could get tired or bored of each other. It'd be easier that way, Tony thinks. Easier if Peter realizes he's not the be all end all and washes his hands clean of--

Tony sees Peter's eyes flick down to his mouth, but he'd already known that Peter was going to say yes. Still, going through the motions and asking, being a little sweeter? Tony knows that Peter needs this. Tony is adaptable.

"Yeah, really," Tony teases, his lips quirking into a smirk, but the smirk doesn't last because Tony's leaning in and brushing his mouth over Peter's soft, plush lips. Tony keeps it sweet, pulling away then pecking more light kisses on Peter's mouth. He groans, the hunger waking up, but Tony doesn't push it.

* * *

The thought is like a wave of fire under Peter's skin as he stands there. It looks as though he's pressing Tony back against the wall but it's Tony that's chosen this position and holds him. Maybe Tony isn't crushing him in a hug anymore but his hands are warm and rough against Peter's cheeks, cupping the both of them like he's something... special. He _feels _special like this, as stupid as it is.

And then Tony is leaning in. Peter's breath hitches sharply and for a second he actually forgets to breathe as Tony's lips press chastely to his own. Peter feels the faintest scratch of Tony's goatee and heat shoots through him sharply. Then Tony's drawing back and Peter has half a second to realize he hadn't kissed back before Tony leans back in and kisses him again.

Peter makes a softer, breathless sound, something he'd probably be embarrassed to admit to under different circumstances, and then he's kissing Tony back. Peter's grip tightens in Tony's jacket and he presses harder as Tony groans. Peter kisses him, trying to keep it sweet but there's a sharper edge of need to it as he moans softly into the kiss.

* * *

_Keep it sweet, keep it gentle, just a kiss._ They don't have the time, this isn't the place to go any further. Tony needs to be an adult, needs to be careful and responsible--

But Peter makes such a sweet, soft sound and Tony feels whatever resolve he had begin to crumble around him. It's Peter who presses into him, grasping onto his jacket, needy as ever. It's Peter who pushes the kiss a little harder and arousal shoots through Tony like a jolt. He's so fucking lucky - the thought hits him again - and Tony needs to treat Peter, gotta make it up to the kid somehow. He licks into Peter's mouth hungrily, his hands moving down to Peter's shoulders, squeezing.

Tony swaps their positions, crowding Peter back against the wall as his hand drifts between them and rubs at the beginnings of Peter's boner, both blatant and encouraging.

"Yeah, that's right," Tony whispers in between kisses along Peter's jaw. "Can you be quick? If I suck you off? We don't have much time."

* * *

Peter doesn't mean to push. Not really. He tries to be good, tries not to take more than Tony's giving him but it feels so good. His head feels like it's spinning as they kiss and all Peter can think of is how amazing this is, how dizzy he feels at the thought of kissing Tony.

And then suddenly it changes. The kiss deepens and then Tony's tongue is in Peter's mouth. He tenses, making a small, sharper sound of surprise and arousal and before Peter can say anything or even think anything more, Tony has his back pressed against the wall and a hand between his legs.

Peter groans, the sound trembling as much as he is, and it's like Tony's been touching him for an hour with how quickly his body reacts. His breathing quickens and he jerks his hips involuntarily and Peter clutches at Tony's jacket, hardly able to believe...

"Are you serious?" Peter asks shakily. "You really want to-- yeah, yeah I can be quick. Fuck, Mr. Stark, _please_."

* * *

As soon as he hears _Mr. Stark, please_ Tony knows that this kid is going to be the nail in his coffin, but right now, after the highs and lows of everything, Tony would gladly let himself and his career be murdered by this kid because Peter Parker is some addiction that Tony is fully consenting, acknowledging _and_ giving into.

"Seriously serious," Tony replies quickly and there's no fanfare as he slides down to his knees, experienced fingers undoing and unzipping what they must in order to work out Peter's hardening cock. As far as dicks go, it's lovely - maybe not as thick as he is, but slender and still substantial, giving something Tony to work with (which he loves).

"Such a big boy aren't you," Tony praises, but his comment is mostly a throw away.

He wets his lips, his right hand wrapping around the base of Peter's cock to hold it still. "I'm going to suck you hard and fast and I'm not stopping 'till you unload down my throat or we get caught."

He shoots Peter a serious look. Tony's means business. He wants this fucking twink falling apart and spilling because of him and he's going to fucking get it.

No other warning is given as he takes the head of Peter's leaking cock into his mouth and hums approvingly. He bobs his head slow for only a few seconds before he's going to town, deepthroating Peter's cock, sucking hard, his tongue swishing against the vein on the underside of Peter's dick. Tony loves giving head, he loves how wet and messy it can get, and it's no different now.

* * *

Peter honestly doesn't really _get_ that Tony is serious until he's already sinking down onto his knees in front of him. Just the sight alone is enough to make him ache, his dick hardening quickly and almost painfully in his boxers as Tony's hand goes to his fly. Peter watches, hardly daring to really believe, as Tony reaches into his jeans and eases his cock out. Peter almost feels like he's watching this from outside of himself, because _Tony Stark_ is on his knees, Peter's cock held in his hand, and Peter might pass out from how suddenly he hardens in Tony's hand.

"Oh my god," he breathes, not even aware he's said anything. He watches, flushed, his eyes wide as Tony warns him what the plan is, and Peter makes a smaller, strangled sound in the back of his throat in understanding. Tony looks at him like it's a threat, not a promise, like this is some sort of fight that he's intending to _win_, and Peter feels weak. A part of him wants to prompt, wants to ask more, but then Tony's leaning in and Peter's brain helpfully stalls.

Tony's mouth is hot and tight and wet and Peter's lips part as he drags in a sharp, stuttering gasp. He reaches down, almost going for Tony's hair before thinking better of it, remembering cameras and questioning looks. Peter reaches up instead, covering his mouth with both hands, and not a second too soon. Because then Tony _really_ starts, taking him _all_ in, down to the base, and Peter moans high and loud behind his clasped hands.

He lifts up onto his toes, already shaking, and it's a sudden, vibrant, perfect rush of sensation that leaves him feeling overwhelmed. Tony sucks like it's all he wants to do and Peter has never, ever had a blowjob like this before, with clear skill and the apparent desire to make him lose his fucking mind.

* * *

It's so fucking personal and visceral to have his face stuffed between two thighs. The gender of said thighs doesn't even matter to Tony. Oral sex is wet and almost animalistic. It's nothing fancy, no toys, no lube, nothing overly complicated. It's just spit and lips and tongue and Tony's single-minded focus to be the best that they've ever had.

He wants to be the best Peter's ever had.

He's going to be the best that Peter's ever had.

Peter doesn't disappoint him. Even with the wet suck sounds, Tony can hear the obvious reactions that he forces Peter to make. From the corner of his eye, he sees Peter's hand, once again, go to cover his mouth and it's an homage to what they'd done just days ago - Tony telling Peter to use his hand to muffle sounds. Some tricks are tried and true.

Tony doesn't pull any punches, he slurps his excess spit back, but given the rapid movements, it's a bit of a lost cause, some spit drooling out from the sides of his mouth. Tony's hands move to Peter's hips, but it's not to hold him, no. It's to yank Peter's hips _forward_, encouraging Peter to thrust into his throat.

Tony can take it, so he repeats the motions, groaning and loving this depraved feeling of sucking Peter off, how his jaw has to stretch to accomodate, how his throat is unhappy about the occasional gagging that he does. But he doesn't stop, his hands pulling at Peter's hips, his lips sliding around Peter's cock as he sucks and moves fast.

* * *

This isn't something that Peter has a lot of experience with, and certainly not like this. The few times he'd had anyone do this to him, it had been fumbling and a little awkward. It had been passable, a good effort, even if it hadn't been enough, or hadn't felt good.

_This_ is different. _This_ is Tony's mouth hot and wet, sucking him tight enough to make Peter see stars. This is Tony letting himself be messy, spit glistening at the corners of his mouth, his eyes watering a little whenever he takes Peter deep enough at the wrong angle and gags. And this is Peter desperately struggling to not lose his fucking mind as he feels Tony's throat clench and squeeze and pull at his cock.

He breathes hard, trying to muffle his sounds behind his hands, but before he can do much more, Tony is suddenly grabbing at his hips and _jerking_ them and Peter cries out, muffled, behind his hands as he fucks Tony's mouth deep.

It only takes him one more time to figure it out, and then Peter feels something snap. He bites hard at his lower lip and jerks his hips, feeling the tight clench of Tony's throat, feeling his dick leak over Tony's tongue. It's like a whirlwind of sensation, like Peter's only just holding on, and if he had any hopes about _lasting_, they're dashed completely when he looks down at Tony and sees the intent look on his face.

Peter chokes a groan deep in his throat, and later, maybe, he'll be humiliated for coming so fast, but he can't help it. He fucks into Tony's mouth, into his throat, and watches until he can't. Pleasure hits him low, and Peter arches his back against the wall with a desperate, muffled moan of Tony's title as his he comes, his cock shooting thick and hot in Tony's mouth. He comes so hard that he sees spots, that he feels _dizzy_ with it.

* * *

When Peter clues in and takes a chance, slender hips thrusting forward and using Tony in the way that he _wants_ to be used, arousal slams into Tony, his dick aching. It's not necessarily comfortable, but this isn't about him. He has no plans on getting off or using Peter (this time). Tony focuses on relaxing his throat, on breathing through his nose and letting Peter thoroughly enjoy this.

Tony's eyes are watering, his throat irritated, his knees not feeling great like this against the floor, but Tony doesn't pull back or stop. Peter doesn't last long anyway and the sounds that accompany Peter coming fill Tony's head. The come is hot and not lacking and Tony slowly sucks off of Peter's cock before he swallows and then wipes his mouth off on the sleeve of his jacket. He's pleased, not at all caring about how long Peter lasted or didn't last.

He's breathing harshly as he tucks Peter's wet cock back inside and does up Peter's pants and belt again, all professional and quick. Slightly dishevelled, Tony looks up at Peter and then kisses at the outline of Peter's dick through his jeans.

"Feels better now, doesn't it?" He's smiling at Peter.

* * *

Peter loses track of time as the seconds slow in his perception. It's probably only a few seconds that he stands there but they might as well be minutes and hours for all he knows. All he focuses on is the feeling of Tony's mouth, the suction, the feeling of his lips and hands and the sight of Tony Stark on his knees in front of him. Peter feels his dick ache and give another feeble twitch in Tony's mouth at the sight of him, but he can't help but struggle to catch his breath as Tony carefully draws back.

He manages to stay on his feet as long as it takes for Tony to tuck his dick back into his jeans, long enough for Tony to _kiss_ the outline of it (which is so impossibly hot) and then Peter's knees finally give out. He pulls his hands away from his mouth in order to catch himself against the wall and then, with a soft, exhausted, wrecked groan, Peter slides down the wall until he's sitting on the floor in front of Tony. He leans his head back against the wall, breathing hard, but he doesn't look away from Tony once. He looks awed.

"Y-yeah," Peter manages, still reeling from how a kiss had turned into Tony choking willingly on his dick. Which-- Peter draws in a smaller breath of realization and his cock stings with oversensitivity in his jeans.

"Wait. Did you-- did you _swallow?_ Oh my god, Mr. Stark. That's..." so, so impossibly hot. Peter wets his lips.

* * *

Peter's jizz doesn't taste especially great, but it's not horrible and not the worst love juices that Tony has sampled in his lifetime. Tony could pop in a breath mint - he has them in every vehicle he owns as well as gum, cologne, deodorant, condoms, lube, wet wipes… He likes to be prepared. Tony isn't going to grab a mint, however. He wants the taste of Peter to linger in his mouth. Self-proclaimed deviant? Check.

Peter looks like he's been hit by a train and that train goes by the name of Stark Motherfucking Express. Peter's gasping and actually sliding to the floor and gratification fills Tony's chest as well as something smug and asshole-like because he can't help but want to think of what else he could to Peter to overwhelm him.

But for now he basks in how impressed and Peter currently looks - wide, stunned eyes, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, messy hair - all absolutely delicious, all because of him.

"'Course I swallowed, gets rid of the evidence," Tony answers easily. "As much as _I_ enjoy knowing that you've been ravished by me, I don't like sharing." Just because he can, Tony licks his lips as if he's just enjoyed something very sweet (he has).

"And you can call me Tony if you'd like. Pretty sure we could be on a first name basis even on the show."

The other contestants called him 'Tony Stark' after all, it makes sense for Peter to hop aboard.

* * *

Tony looks impossibly smug as Peter sits against the wall, breathing hard, probably looking as wrecked as he feels, but he can't even be upset by it. His mind is still spinning; the last few minutes feel like a blur. Wet, tight, gripping heat, Tony's intent expression, the wet, hot sounds he'd made, and the bliss that had been coming down his throat. Peter still feels stuck on every detail and he really doesn't mind Tony looking smug.

The issue is that they probably don't have a lot of time, and Peter wishes that he could return the favor. He feels suddenly jittery with the mutual desire and nerves, remembers the hot, disappointing denial of Tony jerking off without letting him see. It hits him again that Tony just saw his cock - just _sucked_ it - and Peter hasn't even had the chance to feel embarrassed or flustered yet. It had all happened so quickly.

Watching Tony blatantly lick his lips, watching the hunger in his eyes, Peter aches with the desire to _do_ something. He's even reaching out hesitantly, as though trying to make himself move, when Tony adds on the thing about his name, and Peter pauses.

"What?" He asks quickly. Then he thinks about it and... okay, yeah. Having someone suck his dick probably means he can call them by their first name. Still... "I--... yeah, I could... I could maybe do that. You're still just-- I mean, you're _you_ and I just never thought-" Peter cuts himself off.

"Ask me again in front of the cameras? People might notice if I just start calling you, uh. Tony."

* * *

Tony actually likes hearing _'Mr. Stark'_ \- at least out of Peter's mouth. There's something undoubtedly appealing about the use of a title depicting respect or distance between them (even though Tony would like there to be much less distance going forward. People who know him of course refer to him as Tony, but to anyone else, he's usually Tony Stark - first and last name. Mr. Stark is usually for business related matters and apparently a sweet as apple pie Peter Parker.

Buuuut, considering that he's just sucked Peter's brain out through his cock, Peter using his first name - at least when they're alone - seems like it's a logical next step. Peter seems flustered and Tony doesn't know if he likes the reason Peter gives - because of who he is - but the mention of asking Peter on the show is something he can work with. Peter's been calling him Mr. Stark since the beginning (something that most fans seem to find cute).

"Well, they want to do a clip of us having a heart-to-heart about your fuck-up and anxiety next rehearsal," Tony explains with a shrug. "I could slip the name thing in there. That okay with you?" He thinks it's a compromise.

* * *

Peter makes a small face almost immediately, because as much as he really does want to reach out and try to touch Tony, maybe offer him _something_ in return, the return to reality isn't quite as fun. At least not in theory.

Reality television isn't always real, but some of it is. The work that Peter's been putting into this competition is real, but the human interaction parts are sometimes staged. So far he hasn't needed to do more than make a few honest comments behind the scenes about his co-competitors, and about Tony and the other judges. The heart-to-hearts are the things that sometimes seem a little awkward, because it's hard to actually _be_ sentimental with cameras watching.

Still, it had been in the contract. And as Peter looks at Tony, at how _good_ he looks, he reminds himself that Tony's still a judge first, regardless of... whatever else this is between them.

"Super looking forward to that," Peter says dryly. He doesn't _want_ to talk about his fuck up, especially since he can't give the real reason for it. "But... yeah. Yeah, that works for me. Just uh... I guess a warning. I've been calling you Mr. Stark for weeks now. Might slip a few times here and there. Especially if you do stuff like... well. Like this."

* * *


	5. Five

* * *

* * *

**[Before their heart-to-heart recorded chat]**

Tony continues to text and flirt with Peter, but he doesn't go crazy with the sexting - not like before. Something seems more settled within Tony after their hug and the rushed BJ. He hadn't apologized, but he'd claimed the blame and at least admitted that he knew he was bad for Peter. Tony had _tried_ to sort of do the right thing… That counts for something.

But Peter hadn't wanted him to stop.

So, Tony doesn't stop. And knowing that he has this _thing_ with Peter somehow cheers Tony up (not that he'd say he was depressed). Natasha asks him what's up - why he seems a little less snarky - and Tony just grins and mimes that he's licking something off his finger tips. She rolls her eyes and predictably calls him a pig.

He texts Peter, warning him ahead of time about their impending snippet together. Tony is wearing slate grey dress pants, a grey Henley and a striped cardigan. He's comfy and will be warm enough considering that they usually blast the A/C.

"Man of the hour!" Tony calls out when Peter is ushered into the room that the mentor interviews are done in. There's just a handful of crew around, a few cameras, but Tony pretty much has the say when their recorded chit chat will start.

* * *

Peter honestly kind of feels good. Definitely much better than he had before. God, he'd been a mess leading up to the results show and now that it's over, he's made it through despite his mistake, _and_ things have gotten better with Tony, it's hard not to be weirdly elated. Peter still keeps it contained as best as he can because he doesn't want anyone to notice, but it's hard. Tony might have sucked him off, and it might have been amazing, but Tony's _texting_ him again, and Tony had hugged him and just that simple comfort had been like a balm on Peter's senses.

Tony's good enough to give Peter a heads up when he's supposed to do the heart-to-heart 'chat', though. Peter's _really_ not looking forward to it, because he still doesn't know what he's going to say, how he's going to explain his blunder away, but he does appreciate not having it sprung on him.

When Peter arrives that day, he's dressed comfortably, because he knows he's going to need it. Maybe his light blue sweater isn't the most stylish, but May always tells him it helps make his eyes pop, and his dark wash jeans are comfortable. Peter's pretty sure the stylist assigned to him is crying into her latte somewhere, but he doesn't want to do this while uncomfortable.

Still, the second that Peter walks into the same room as Tony, he manages a quick smile, even if it is nervous. He wets his lips, tells himself _not_ to be obvious, and makes his way over.

"Hey, Mr. Stark. Yeah. Hoping to be, anyway."

* * *

These are never exactly fun, but it's the price of fame and of this show. Interviews, paparazzi, the whole invasion of privacy, words picked over, being judged... Yeah, the list of annoyances is long when you're famous, but Peter knew the formula of the show and Peter's still here. So, you jump through the damn hoop and bark when they tell you to bark. The mentors speak with the contestants, they reflect about past and upcoming performances, they offer advice. It's a whole song and dance and now's time for their next one.

"You'll do great, kid, this is hardly the worst thing to film. Just imagine what the poor souls feel like when they have to blabber on about being thankful for the experience but _still_ get cut," Tony mentions wryly.

He makes his way over to Peter and claps him on the arm - it's a gesture he's done many times now.

"So, we're just going to go over what happened last performance, what you were feeling, thinking," he starts. "How you overcame it and finished the song. How _grateful _you are for America voting you through blah blah blah. Any questions?"

He'd like to get Peter thinking about his responses ahead of time so he's not looking like a fish out of water (which is cute, but not what they're going for right now).

* * *

This is the part that Peter isn't looking forward to, because this is the part that he still isn't prepared for. The trouble with this particular concept is that Peter hasn't actually _lied_ on camera yet. He can always tap into some sort of truth when he's talking and while he hasn't really been allowed to scour his social media much since this thing had started, people still respond really well to how _genuine_ he comes across. Peter doesn't want to jeopardize that.

But he might have to, because there is _no_ way that he can tell the full truth. Maybe a flicker of that doubt does show in his eyes but he does his best to cast it out when Tony walks over and clasps him on the arm. Peter draws in a quick breath and nods, not looking back at the cameras. Those, at least, he's used to seeing. They don't intimidate him the way they would other people.

"Nothing that wouldn't make me sound like a kid asking about time travel to when after these interviews are done," Peter says, sighing. "But no, it's pretty straightforward. Just... still trying to work through it all myself. But maybe America will understand."

* * *

Tony's trying to not have this current chit chat be _a thing,_ but given that the conversation blurb is Peter's fuck up and that fuck up had been caused _by_ Tony... it's kind of a touchy topic. He gets it. He also gets that the kid is all earnest and honest and he's going to have a hard time coming up with anything that even resembles a lie. Which means that Tony has to be clever. Good thing he's clever.

"Hey? What did I tell you about overthinking," Tony begins. He has the urge to touch Peter again but he doesn't. Instead, his hand comes and tucks into the pocket of his cardigan (just in case). "It'll be easy enough to say that your nerves got the best for you, that this is still a lot to take in, a big step up from recording in your bedroom, but you're enjoying the challenge and grateful for the opportunity _as well_ as thankful for your fans."

Tony takes a breath. "It'll be fine. Just let me know when you're ready and we'll get this done and behind us." He offers Peter a warm smile (or at least what he thinks is a warm smile).

* * *

Peter honestly isn't expecting Tony to have an answer for him, or to help him out. So when he _does_, giving Peter an actual angle on everything, Peter looks at him sharply. Instead of looking nervous, though, there's a flicker of relief in Peter's eyes, especially as it looks like none of the camera crew had heard Tony. Peter only half-glances back and they're all busy getting shots of the two of them standing there, but they're not paying more attention than that.

So Peter nods, tries to rifle through _that_ angle, and when he catches Tony's smile, something uneasy and nervous relaxes in his chest. He draws in a small breath, bounces a little on his heels to work off a bit of nervous energy, and then nods again, letting out the breath he'd been holding.

"Okay. Okay, thank you. I think I can do this. No overthinking. Being as... honest," Peter says quieter, just in case the boom mics are sensitive, "as I can be. I'm ready."

* * *

It's a simple enough affair to let the necessary crew know that they're ready to do their blurb. Makeup and hair stop in one last time to ensure that they're both looking camera-ready. They're situated in the middle of the room, standing close together which now feels slightly more charged than before, but somehow more manageable. He's count down and when it's go-time, Tony immediately is reaching out to clasp Peter's bicep.

Here goes nothing.

"Hey, bud, how's it going after, you know, making it through?" Tony asks, curious, his voice not dripping in fake sincerity at least.

* * *

This is the part of reality TV that Peter's not really a fan of, but he doesn't argue as the camera crews ready themselves and make-up comes in to get them ready. A woman fusses over his hair before deeming it a bit of a lost cause, but Peter isn't really focusing on his hair as much as he's focusing on how close Tony winds up standing to him.

And when the countdown ends and Peter feels Tony's hand grip his bicep, he lets himself fall into that space between reality and acting and his shoulders sag a little. And, probably to his make-up artist's exasperation, he reaches up to rake the fingers of his free hand back through his hair.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he breathes, and _really_ taps into it. "Still kind of reeling. I mean, I'm _thrilled_, don't get me wrong, but I thought for _sure_ I was going home."

* * *

Tony's been taping blurbs like this with all of his solo guys since the beginning. Little interviews to chat about their upcoming song or performance or the results. He's supposed to be 'mentoring' them, after all and this is a part of his obligations as a judge-slash-mentor. Just because Tony wants Peter to win, he tries hard to be fair to each of them. Counting Peter, he only has 3 other contestants to check in on which is nice because that means Tony doesn't need to spend that much time pretending to be interested in twerps who have _decent_ voices but shitty personalities.

"Yeah, well, America's opinion matters more," Tony begins with a reassuring smile. "Their votes, I mean. And don't worry about the mess-up. We all mess up. _I've_ even messed up before - I know, shocker! The important thing is that you didn't chicken out and run away." Tony gives Peter's arm a squeeze before pulling his hand off.

Out of his peripheral, he sees the director giving him a thumbs up.

* * *

Peter nods and offers Tony a quick smile. It's distracted, because when he really thinks about it, when he really thinks back to the night after he'd made it through, he remembers how stunned he'd been, how shaken. Right now, though it is embarrassing, Peter thinks that America needs to see it. So he lets himself sink back into it a bit, but he still does listen to Tony.

Even if he's heard this before - the real version, not the TV one - it still does help. Peter draws in a slow breath and then lets it out, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, like there's still excess energy he has to wear off.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. This is just... it's different you know? This isn't just standing in my bedroom recording things for the Internet. This is live, and my nerves just kinda got the better of me. It's easy to get a little overwhelmed here."

* * *

To Tony's immense relief, Peter seems to be doing fine with this. At least, so far. That could change, but Tony feels decently level headed now which helps with this sort of thing. Since their little make up chat and the BJ, Tony has been more able to regulate his moods - so maybe Peter was a good thing for him. Tony likes that idea. It's nothing that he'd ever admit, but it's still there.

"Of course it's different," Tony says with a flash of a smile. "This is where _dreams_ are made, baby." And in this, the usage of 'baby' isn't said in the same affectionate tone as he's previously used.

"Ya bucked up, finished the song, and that's what's important, right? Getting back up on the horse. Not that I've ever had a horse, but it's what I've heard."

* * *

While the usage of the pet name is different, it still does give Peter pause. Not enough to be visible, he hopes, but it does catch his attention. He laughs to cover for it, reaching up to rub at his face, and when he looks at Tony again, there's a measure of relief in his eyes. It's not great to tap into how wretched he'd felt, but Tony's levity is appreciated, even if this is more for the cameras.

"Yeah. Just easy to get in your own head sometimes, I guess. I'm still kind of blown away. _Relieved_," he hastens to add, "but definitely blown away. I don't think I can really thank America enough for keeping me in. And... thanks for being, you know... supportive during judging. I appreciate it, Mr. Stark."

* * *

In casual conversation - both in front of the camera and not - Tony's used 'baby' before so he's not worried about using it now. Peter's somewhat embarrassed response is genuine and par for the course for Peter dealing with him on camera. Although, honestly, Peter's been like that with _most_ of the judges, really - all polite and stunned (although Tony knows that _he's_ the biggest star that Peter's interested in).

While gushing about being thankful and blown away from the experience of fucking up but not getting voted to the bottom, Peter practically sets him up.

"No problem, kid, it's my job," Tony remarks, giving an easy grin for the camera. "And feel free to call me 'Tony' if you'd like." While Tony still enjoys being called_ Mr. Stark_ by Peter, he'd like if Peter had the choice here too.

* * *

Which means that Peter has the perfect opportunity to actually react the way he hadn't been able to last night. It's nothing that the other contestants haven't done before. Most everyone calls Tony _Tony_, but Peter's aunt hadn't raised him to be rude, and 'Mr. Stark' has always rolled off the tongue. But the fact that Tony's giving him permission - not just now, but last night, for when they're in private - is still a big deal, one that Peter isn't going to ignore.

So he lets his eyes widen, lets himself really feel what that means - that Tony not only wants to meet with him in secret, but likes Peter enough to want him to call him by his first name. And after a moment where Peter falters a little, like he's taken a misstep, he straightens, blinks at Tony, and then swallows.

"You-- really? You'd be... you'd be okay with that? For real?"

* * *

The manners are sweet. On and off camera the other judges have commented on how sweet Peter is. Tony doesn't always like Peter garnering any additional attention from his fellow judges - his fellow peers - but thus far he's been able to keep his cool. It's a good thing that Nat, Sam and Clint like Peter. If America hears all the judges coo about Peter, there's a higher chance that the monkeys will vote for him.

Tony gives an amused chuckle at Peter's surprised response. He'd seen a similar one a few nights ago, but at least Peter looks natural - all pleased and stunned and taken back.

"Yes, for real," Tony says with a wry expression on his face. "Manners are all well and good, but you've got to start thinking like a star." He throws a wink.

Before Peter can respond an, "okay, we got it!" is heard and the crew is shuffling about. The cameras are off and Tony knows that more interviews will be incoming, but they're done.

"I'll walk him to Wanda," Tony announces to anyone who's listening. Wanda Maximoff is one of the vocal coaches.

A hand goes for Peter's shoulder as he then directs them out of the room and away from the crew.

* * *

He's got to start thinking like a star. The words are for the camera and Peter knows it, but there's something a little odd about thinking that way. Stars can have manners too, or at least he's always assumed that they should. He doesn't think he's going to call Tony 'Tony' all the time; Peter knows he's going to slip quite a few times before it becomes natural for him.

Still, he's not expecting the director to call it quits before he's thought of a response, and... yeah, okay. Peter can work with that. He nods and he begins to turn to face Tony when Tony's hand comes to his shoulder and gives a little push. Peter feels something leap in his chest, something becoming decidedly Pavlovian, and he lets Tony guide him out of the room.

"That was way more painless than I thought it would be," Peter said, more to try and strike up a conversation than anything. "You were right. Thank you-- ah. Tony."

* * *

A lot of the shit that Tony says for the camera is pretty much automatic for him. Doing interviews, going through the cliched song and dance, he's never struggled with things to say. Whether or not everything is entirely true? Not Tony's problem. Life in the limelight isn't always easy and kind and being honest 100% of the time isn't really an option. Anyone who says any differently is, in fact, an idiot sandwich.

Peter's experiencing some of that right now with his involvement in the show - the annoyances of being primped, the expectations, the social media storm, the rehearsals, the interviews, the focus on image... actual talent? Yeah, it's somewhere in there too.

Next to him, Peter close, Tony feels good - maybe even happy. He's glad that Peter had done well, yeah, but also that Peter had felt like it was manageable. After all, Peter would have a lot more interviews and lot more complications if he won and things took off (and Tony's determined to actually have this win go somewhere).

"Mm, of course I was right," Tony replies nonchalantly, his eyes scanning the corridor that they're in. Some crew are milling around, but not really paying them any direct attention as they all have jobs to do. Tony's sure that they could dawdle for about ten minutes max, but that's enough. It has to be.

The next turn takes them to an empty hall with a lockable bathroom for individuals with disabilities or for people who like extra space or something. Tony's eyebrows waggle as he ushers Peter into it and locks the door. The fluorescent light is jarring, but Tony's eyes are glued onto Peter as he turns on him and advances.

Tony is kissing up Peter's neck. He grasps Petere's wrists and pins them against the door and above Peter's head.

"Say it again," Tony murmurs. "Say my name."

* * *

Peter doesn't really see Tony looking around. For some reason, he does actually believe that Tony intends to take him to see Wanda. It's been a few days now and she'll likely want to put Peter through his paces, likely want to make sure his vocal range is staying sharp and that he's taking care of his voice. There's way more to professionally maintaining his voice than he'd thought there would be and so he's expecting some sort of new lemon-tea concoction the second he walks in.

So when Tony ushers him down the hall and then suddenly pushes, shoving Peter a little off balance as he moves him towards - and into - the bathroom, Peter only has a second or two to be alarmed before heat is immediately settling through him. His breath hitches before Tony even turns to him, and when Tony steps closer, Peter quickly wets his lips.

At once, Tony has him up against the door, his lips hot on Peter's neck, his hands finding Peter's wrists. Peter doesn't argue as Tony lifts them and pins both of his wrists above his head. Instead he shudders, letting out a rougher breath, and he tilts his head back against the door with a low moan.

"Tony," Peter breathes, his earlier preoccupation with Wanda and the show gone in favor of the scratch of Tony's goatee against his throat and the strength in his hands. "Fuck, Tony."

* * *

Why does Peter feel so fucking good against him and pressed into something? Tony doesn't exactly know, but he's down for some more research. A lot more research even. Maybe it's the way that Peter just trusts him and _lets_ him do this with no questions asked, or the way that Peter responds to him - that trembling, that rapid breathing. Oh yeah, Peter loves this - lives for this, probably. Arousal and ego swell when Peter's sweet voice says _his_ name.

Tony's heard his name a lot. Screamed at him, chanted from the crowd, moaned at him, spat at him from ex's, introduced in different languages… but Peter's voice takes the cake. Tony had been thinking that the itch had been scratched, that sucking Peter had taken the edge off, but now he's not so sure.

Tony can't ravage the kid's neck or there will be beard burn, but god does he ever want to. His hands grasp Peter's wrists firmly, but not hard enough to bruise, just to feel that he's got Peter effectively pinned and at his mercy. He kisses along Peter's jaw with a low groan.

"Sounds so good when you say my name, baby," Tony comments roughly. "Just the sweetest sin, ain't ya?" His mouth moves to one of Peter's ears and he takes the lobe into his mouth and sucks.

* * *

Every time Tony touches him, it's like a whirlwind of sensation. Peter's messed around before, sure, but it had always been awkward or stilted or amusing, not like this. Every time he's with Tony, every time he feels Tony's lips at his throat, it's like the air in the room goes thick. He remembers countless hours spent listening to Tony's singing voice in his ear, remembers guilty moments where he'd slid his hand into his boxers in the middle of the night to guiltily chase a fantasy that he'd been _sure_ would never happen, because why would it?

There's a reason that this is overwhelming. Because for the first time in Peter's life, the reality is actually _way_ better than the fantasy. His stolen moments in his bedroom in Queens have nothing on the feeling of Tony's lips and beard scraping and soothing his skin. His fantasies don't hold water to the sound of Tony's voice sweetly and hotly encouraging him, and Peter gasps shamelessly when Tony sucks at his earlobe, his pulse skipping.

If Tony's addicted, he's not the only one. Peter's hips give a small, abortive twitch without his say-so.

"God, Mr. Stark," he whispers. "T-Tony, I mean. You feel-- wow, that's-- that's good."

* * *

Ten minutes. No, nine minutes by now. Maybe even eight, but eight would suck. Tony is trying to think what they could feasibly do in this time span, but rational thought is difficult to manage when Peter's hips jerk and Tony can feel the beginnings of Peter's erection poking at him. Peter is so easy for him but Tony doesn't mind, if anything, it gets _him_ going, Tony's own cock interested. But _all _of Tony is interested, his dick, his mouth, his hands. God, he _wants_ to tear Peter's clothing off and have him spread across his bed and not in the damn bathroom--

Tony breathes deeply. Peter smells good, his hair and skin soapy clean with an undercurrent of sweat. He hums his appreciation around the lobe of Peter's ear before his teeth graze and he pulls off.

"Just good?" Tony asks and his hands pull on Peter's wrists just to remind Peter of their current position. He purposely grinds forward, rubbing himself against Peter's growing hardness. "The things I want to do to you…" Tony growls lowly and his teeth are skimming against Peter's neck, but not biting.

* * *

Peter's lips part on a soundless gasp when Tony grinds up against him, lifting Peter's trapped hands just a little higher. It has the intended effect. Peter feels something hot swoop down low in his stomach, feels something coil inside of him as Tony works at his ear, his neck, his voice low and rough and perfect, and fuck. Peter knows he's being way too easy, knows that there's no reason he should be getting this hard at the drop of a hat, but he can't help it.

This is _Tony Stark_, and Tony _wants_ him, and it's the best feeling ever.

"Great-- amazing, _perfect_, fuck, Tony," Peter breathes lowly, shuddering as he jerks his hips forward, grinding up against the press of Tony's body. He's getting hard fast, but he's not alone in it, and there's a special, visceral thrill that goes through Peter when he feels the outline of Tony's cock. He's never really seen it, and maybe that makes this even more exciting.

"Would you let me do them to you too?" Peter asks shakily. "The-- the things you want to do to me. Would you?"

* * *

It _is_ the best feeling ever - but for Tony it's _Peter_ wanting and hungering for him that really gets him going. There's nothing better than being the object of another's lust, of basking in that targeted arousal, of witnessing how each small movement or word that he gives affects them. He used to hook up with fans occasionally - back in Vixen and when he was more of an idiot - and anyone Tony slept with obviously was into him, but not every person was genuine like Peter. Tony hasn't been messing around with fans for over a decade now - not since he cleaned up his act marginally - although technically Peter _is_ a fan (but Tony argues that Peter isn't _only_ a fan).

Tony doesn't bite or suck a mark into Peter's skin, but he wants to. Considering they have less than seven minutes now, Peter can't be popping back with an unexplainable hickie no matter how much Tony wants to taste Peter's pale neck. Peter meets his grind, their contained erections rubbing against each other, sending a jolt of buzzing pleasure through Tony.

That pleasure is momentarily sidetracked when Peter asks his question - about doing things _back_ to him.

Tony huffs out a chuckle against Peter's neck. "Such a sweet boy you are," he whispers. "If I let you do everything that _I_ want to do, you'd end up being a dirty old man and we can't have that, can we?"

Before Peter can answer, Tony's giving instructions, his tone more forceful: "You keep your hands up and turn around. Face the wall."

* * *

God, he wants to do so much. There's something so visceral in knowing Tony - in being with him like this. Peter feels it all the way down to his core. And sure, maybe Tony hadn't been texting him much over the last few days, but that doesn't mean that he hasn't given Peter quite a few ideas over the last few weeks. Some of the things that Tony's said he wants to do to him, Peter hadn't even known was _possible_. Despite that, he can't help but want to give something back, to do _something_ more than leave a hickey on Tony's neck that his make-up team had been able to cover in a few minutes.

But instead of agreeing, Tony speaks to him, his voice low, almost praising. Peter shivers, and while a part of him does want to argue, he knows they don't have much time, and Tony's instruction is _way_ more interesting anyway, even if Peter does feel a small pang of disappointment that he won't be able to see Tony, _again_.

His curiosity - and his desire to keep this going - wins out in the end. Peter nods shakily and, feeling Tony's hands ease their hold enough for him to comply, Peter does as he'd been told. He turns against the door, breathing a little harder, and makes a point to keep his hands up, setting his palms flat on the door. Peter kind of wants to press his cheek to the door so he can look over his shoulder, but Tony had told him to face the wall, so he does.

"Do you-- should I do anything else?" Peter asks, still a little breathless. He wets his lips. "Is this okay?"

* * *

It's a weird situation to be in because _of course_ Tony wants Peter to do shit to him. Why wouldn't he? He wants Peter's pretty mouth stretched around his cock, spit dribbling from the sides. He wants Peter's hand stroking him while Tony can watch the nerves and thrill play across Peter's face. He wants Peter's hands exploring and learning how to touch a man. He wants _a lot_ of things, but somehow Peter touching _him_ just... it makes it more real and mutual.

If it's only _him_ touching Peter, he's the creep and Tony's fine being the creep if he has to be. It's obvious enough that he's the messed up one and he doesn't want Peter taking that label on too.

Thankfully Peter takes to the instructions - such a good boy, so much better than Tony deserves - and Peter nods. Tony's grasp leaves Peter's wrists but Peter's hands remain lifted above and pressed to the door as Peter turns around. Tony would like to take half a step back to get a better look at what's presented to him, but he knows that Peter could spook with that. Peter's the type that needs assurance and Tony's more than capable of giving it.

"More than okay, baby," Tony answers and he's blatant as he slides in closer and grinds against Peter's pert ass with the line of his arousal as his hands come to rest on Peter's slim hips. Tony's nose rubs against the hairline on the back of Peter's head in an almost affectionate nuzzle. Fuck, he wants to destroy this kid, but for that he needs hours - days even - not minutes.

"You think about me fucking you?" He then asks.

* * *

Peter's view isn't exactly the best there is right now but he tries not to let it bother him. He can't see Tony like this, and that does suck, but he can still _hear_ him. He can hear his breathing, hear the shuffling of his position. He can still smell his distinctive aftershave and Peter swears he feels hotter just at the scent. He feels decidedly wired and a little off balance, but he keeps breathing, keeps focusing everything he can on Tony. It's a little weird to think about his own level of arousal _second_, but he can't help it. He's always so desperate to know what Tony's going to do.

So when Peter feels Tony's hips suddenly press up against him, when he feels the grind of Tony's dick against his ass, Peter jerks a little in surprise. His hands half-curl into fists before he catches them and his breath hitches audibly as Tony's hands come to rest on his hips. God, oh _god_, this is almost like if Tony were--

'_You think about me fucking you?'_

Peter feels his cock fucking _throb_ in his jeans. He shuffles a little and his knees accidentally hit the door, but not loud enough to make a sound. He shudders, each breath shaking a little with how badly he _wants_.

"Yes," Peter breathes, his voice tight, his back arching a little as he presses back. "God, yes--yeah, I-- all the time, Mr. Stark. I think about-- about you doing _everything_, everything you text me about, and more."

* * *

Oh, Tony knows that Peter has thought about it, but that's not the point of asking. The point of asking is for Peter to verbally acknowledge and admit it (and_ get off _on it too). The fucking point of asking is so that _Tony_ gets to hear it and experience Peter's response and Peter doesn't disappoint either. Peter jerks, his knees hitting the door and Tony smiles because _he's_ a jerk and he likes that Peter can't help it.

Peter pushes back against him, all encouraging and hungry, all eager and sweet to be fucked. Tony's grip tightens on Peter's hips as a groan is stifled. Peter's _spoken _answer doesn't disappoint either and man, Tony loves being right.

Peter _is _a slut for him and has been actively fantasizing about _all _the filth Tony has been texting him about. He makes a pleased, affirmative sound while peppering kisses along the nape of Peter's neck. He honestly could kiss this kid for hours if given the chance. His mouth may be busy, but his hips don't let up as Tony continues to blatantly rub the hard line of his erection against Peter's willing ass.

"You can feel how hard I am for you, baby," Tony whispers. "Jerk off to thoughts of you every night, right after I stop texting you." He figures Peter might as well know.

* * *

Peter can't help it. Maybe Tony hasn't really sent him messages about _fucking_ him yet, maybe Tony's always limited himself to his mouth and his fingers and other things that he'd apparently like to do to Peter (and there seem to be _a lot _of things), but Peter can't help but think about it. Just the thought is enough to make him feel hot and he doesn't know how Tony can make him go from zero to one hundred in only a few minutes with only a few touches, but he can. It's like a superpower. A _sex _superpower.

Feeling the way that Tony grinds against his ass makes Peter _ache_. God, he's never seen Tony's dick fully hard, only managed to touch it through Tony's slacks once, and he'd jerked himself off hard later that night, his hand over his mouth, muffling his sounds as Tony had texted him absolute filth. But not even that can compare to the way Peter feels now, bracketed against the wall, Tony's hands bruising on his hips, the scratch of his goatee against Peter's nape, and the hard line of his cock grinding against him.

"God. Fuck. Tony," Peter chokes. He nods, because he _can_ feel how hard Tony is. He shifts, widening his stance just a bit as he rocks his hips back. God, he's so hard... "I do too. Every night. Get off twice. Once while you're-- while you're texting me, and again when you stop."

* * *

Admitting this to Peter feels a bit like a twisted confession and Tony's pretty sure that he likes it. What's he saying? Of course he likes it. He'd think it would be obvious that he gets off to thoughts of Peter... but Peter has proven to be a little naïve at times. On more than one occasion Peter had asked if he was being serious, so this could possibly come as a surprise to Peter. It shouldn't.

Peter has felt him hard, Peter had been there when Tony had jerked himself off too, but maybe Peter's surprise and shock that this _could _be happening at all is a part of the whole appeal.

Peter's little confession - about getting off _twice_ to him - has Tony muffling a groan against Peter's neck. Apparently Peter has a fairly high sex drive and Tony would just _love_ to test that out (because he's no slouch in the bedroom if he's into the person).

Tony knows what he's told himself - that he _wouldn't _fuck Peter - but this is just talk, just hypothetical, just fantasy (but he knows that Peter would do it in a fucking heartbeat). And just feeling Peter's ass like this has Tony itching to do so much more than just grind against it.

"You sound insatiable," Tony comments after dragging his teeth down Peter's neck to his shoulder. "You sound like you're as hungry as me." And isn't that a frightening thought?

One hand slides down, coming to rest over the enticing erection contained underneath Peter's jeans. Tony cups the hardness appreciatively, just gripping and providing a bit of attention as he continues to grind against Peter's ass.

* * *

Peter feels almost breathless with it as he stands there, fighting between the urge to push back against Tony's dick or to grind ahead against the damn _door_ of all things. He feels wired, and he's so damn aware that there's probably a time limit here, that he only has so long before he's supposed to stop, but Peter doesn't even want to think about how humiliating it'll be if he has to leave the bathroom like this.

He's so hard that it hurts, and his imagination is way more active than it should be. Feeling Tony grind against him, feeling the way that Tony's goatee scrapes his neck, followed immediately by his teeth is enough to make Peter shiver, to make him muffle a moan by biting his lower lip. Tony's hands are bruising his hips but Peter doesn't care. Just hearing that Tony thinks he sounds _insatiable_ is enough to make him shudder, to make his hips twitch in desperation.

But to Peter's surprise, he doesn't grind ahead against the door. Instead, he quickly realizes that _one_ of Tony's hands is still on his hip. The other is... oh. It's-- _oh_, Peter draws in a sharper breath and chokes back a smaller sound as Tony's hand presses against the hard line of his dick. Peter feels his cock throb, feels almost embarrassingly close just with the feeling of being pressed against the door, Tony grinding against his ass, and his hand on Peter's cock.

"Only-- fuck, Tony, _fuck_\-- only when it's you. Don't... don't get off if it's not to your texts. Too risky," Peter breathes, his voice shaking with the effort to keep it steady. "Don't- don't want anyone to hear me, but can't help it when you text me. I get so hard it hurts. Even worse when we're like this."

* * *

Five, maybe six minutes left? It's hard to tell. With Peter, time both goes too quickly and yet each second passes slow and imprints on Tony's mind like something monumental to be cherished and remembered. It's fucking weird is what it is and Tony knows that he shouldn't be getting fresh with Peter on the premises - that it's likely only a matter of time before they get caught because that's kinda how sneaking around works--

Fuck it. Even through the denim of Peter's jeans, Peter's cock feels full and hard and Tony squeezes and rubs and he wants this cock - wants to suck it and jerk it off, wants to fuck himself on it and watch Peter's reaction. Tony doesn't like to bottom often, but to blow Peter's mind? Yeah, Tony would take this dick up his ass and ride Peter to town, his one achy knee be damned.

But right now, his own cock hard and insistent and taking in how Peter pushes back, wanton and hungry? What Tony is thinking about is pounding this sweet virgin ass until Peter absolutely can't take it and can't walk straight--

Peter's voice is so wrecked and deliciously shaky as he insists that it's just _him_ that he's insatiable for.

"That's right, baby, _all mine_," Tony murmurs out and his palm continues stroking as his other hand grips hard on Peter's hip to keep him still as he grinds forward, shamelessly.

* * *

Peter feels weak. Well, that's probably no huge surprise; he always feels weak around Tony. But as he stands there against the door, his head bowed, his knees shaking, his cock aching, and his body jostling a little with the hot, heavy pressure of Tony against him, it's so much worse. His mouth hangs open, eyes half-lidded as he feels Tony's body all up against him, and it's so much sensation all at once that Peter feels wrecked.

Tony's hand keeps rubbing and the knowledge that they're doing this in public - again - is enough to make Peter's arousal skyrocket. The fact that it's _Tony_ is making it almost impossible to hold on. Tony's hips grinding, the way he holds Peter's hip steady and rubs at him like he _wants_ Peter to come in his jeans is so fucking hot that Peter can't believe it. He breathes harder, trying to hold back, because _god_, he shouldn't be this close just because of the _implication_ of being fucked, should he? There's a rule for that or something.

If there is, Peter doesn't think his body is going to honor it. He can smell Tony's aftershave, can hear the roughness of his breath and Tony's pressed so close that Peter feels weak with it. But hearing that Tony apparently believes that Peter _belongs_ to him in some capacity is like a punch of arousal. He makes a higher sound, bitten-back due to necessity, and Peter tries to lift himself up onto his toes with a curse, his hips jerking hard.

"God--god, you gotta-- _fuck_, Tony," Peter hisses, cheeks hot. "You gotta stop. If you don't, I'm gonna come." He's pretty sure he might anyway whether he wants to or not. "I-I still gotta walk back. Don't want them to--to see."

* * *

Tony knows that he should stop. There's absolutely no good reason _not_ to - other than the fact that he doesn't fucking want to. And being who he is, when doesn't he get his own way? Practically never. Peter couldn't push him off - and honestly it feels like Peter can barely stand like this. Has Tony ever been with such a sensitive and responsive partner before? He doesn't think so, at least not like this. Anything that possibly comes close had veered off into unbelievable and fake.

Not Peter though. Nothing about Peter hits Tony as fake or contrived - not his disposition, not his eagerness, not his voice, not his sexuality. Peter is far too good for a man like him and yet Tony knows that he's not done - he can't be done with Peter - not when they've only had these stolen frenzied moments, not when Tony hasn't been able to _thoroughly _enjoy Peter.

And then there's the issue of Tony not wanting anyone else to have Peter in any capacity. He's growled out such a claim and maybe it's the words or maybe it's because his hand continues stroking along Peter's erection, because Peter's voice breaks in a warning.

It's a warning that Tony is going to ignore. Tony's face is pressing in close to Peter's heated cheek.

"What if _I_ want you to come, Pete?" Tony asks, his hand rubbing faster if anything. "Not gonna stop - not until you make a mess for me, baby boy."

* * *

Peter really needs to stop this. Yeah, he's wearing jeans and if he comes in his boxers, it'll take some time for the wetness to soak through - if it does at all - but it's the thought of it that makes him flush. The thought of walking anywhere with his pants full of his own come feels like some weird mix between arousing and humiliating. It's a bad idea. It's _such_ a risk, because if the cameras catch him...

And yet the thought also makes Peter feel hot. It only pushes him higher despite his request for Tony to stop. Yeah, someone could see. But it's also possible that they _won't_. Maybe no one will see but Tony--

The hand between Peter's legs suddenly presses harder, rubs faster, and Peter gasps, his knees knocking against the door again. But - _god_ \- he knows the moment that Tony's voice whispers hot and filthy into his ear that he's a goner. Tony coaxes, his voice all rough temptation, and Peter thinks that maybe he could hold out, could force it all back.

And then Tony tells him to _make a mess_ for him. He calls Peter _baby boy_, and there is no reason that _should_ make Peter come, but it does. _God_ it does. It's like a sudden wave, like Tony's just willingly thrown him off the edge.

With a shuddering, desperate moan, Peter's hands clench into fists against the door and he breathes a harsh, "Tony, _Tony, fuck, I-I--_" and then he's coming.

His dick pulses in his jeans and Peter jerks his hips forwards, grinding helplessly against Tony's rubbing palm as he comes in wracking shudders, biting the inside of his cheek to try and stay quiet, even if soft whimpers do sneak out.

* * *

Reckless. Yeah, this is fucking reckless, but when's that ever stopped Tony before? _Everything_ he does with Peter seems to be along that vein these past few weeks (at least when they're off camera). Tony's in a position of authority here, Tony's decades older than Peter too, and yet he can't help but wonder if it's _Peter_ that's possibly more mature than he is because he thinks that Peter would have stopped...

But Tony hears that gasp, hears knees knock against the door again, and his hips grind forward just a bit harder, helping push Peter's beautiful dick against his palm that much more. It's a fleeting thought - that Tony could possibly get off doing this basic dry humping business - but that's not his prerogative, not right now. It'll be easy enough to jerk off to thoughts of Peter later. Right now he wants _his_ baby boy to lose it because of him.

And Peter does.Tony tries to focus on how Peter falls apart with a pleasured moan, how Peter shakes like a leaf and can't help but say _his_ name. Peter willingly rubs against his palm as he comes and Tony doesn't stop providing that firm attention. His other hand leaves Peter's hip in favor of lifting to grasp onto Peter's wrists. He's kissing at whatever heated skin he can reach along Peter's throat as the body against him shudders.

"_Fuck_, Peter, good job," Tony praises quietly into Peter's ear as his hand drops away, knowing that they don't want to actually let Peter's mess soak into his jeans. "So good for me."

There may be a measure of gluttonous pride at Peter being _this _into him.

* * *

Peter honestly can't remember the last time he came in his pants. He feels a little like he's just lost _massive_ adult points for doing it, because there's no excuse for coming in your pants once you're no longer fourteen. Yet as he feels Tony's hand press harder and feels the other hand lift to pin his wrists above his head, Peter can't help it. It's too much, too good, all Tony's fault. He doesn't have control then, feeling pleasure pound through him, feeling Tony coax him through it, and everything Peter has is Tony's voice low in his ear, Tony's praise warming him impossibly from the inside.

He doesn't know how long he rides on the pleasure before his body finally goes lax. Peter leans forward and turns his head, pressing his cheek against the door as he pants for breath. He feels Tony's lips on his skin, feels the firm pressure of Tony pushing him against the door, and Peter's knees finally shake as he slumps forward. Tony's hand kind of helps to keep him up now.

"God, Tony," Peter murmurs back, his tone shaky, maybe even a little embarrassed that he'd literally just come in his jeans, but he feels good. Everything is buzzing, and hearing Tony's praise just makes it all the better. He closes his eyes with a low groan and knows, with some discomfort, that he'd probably do it again if Tony asked him to. If Tony _made_ him.

"I can't believe-- I told you I'd-- Fuck, Tony, I have to walk back like this now."

* * *

Yeah, it's probably an asshole thing to do - to push and encourage and make Peter come - but what's Tony Stark if not an irresponsible selfish asshole, right? Right. There's something about Peter that just gets his engines revving and all common sense just slinks away into the corner in favor of impulse and bad decisions. And Tony knows that it's more likely for them to get caught if this continues. They're a little more than halfway done the show but Tony is already getting really sick and tired of these rushed stolen moments.

Tony tries to focus on how hot and shaky Peter feels against him, how rattled Peter feels from this latest endeavor. Tony isn't bothered in the least that Peter had creamed his pants - in his mind, it's a testament to how hot Peter is for him and how deliciously sensitive the kid is. Suits him just fine. Despite Peter's words, Peter doesn't exactly sound like he's protesting or complaining, but merely mentioning a fact.

And it's true - Peter will have to walk around like this - well, not _exactly_ like this.

"Shh, it's okay, we'll get you cleaned up," Tony assures and he grasps Peter's wrists gently, lowering Peter's arms back to his sides before he turns Peter around to face him. Before Tony ushers Peter over to the sink and paper towel, his eyes take in the beautifully debauched image of Peter: slightly flushed cheeks, the glazed eyes, bitten bottom lip, messy hair.

Tony smiles, but it's lacking the usual predatory heat as he leans in and kisses Peter softly, chastely.

* * *

Peter isn't entirely sure if he's going to be able to stand, let alone walk. His legs feel like jell-o and his mind doesn't feel much better. But when Tony gently turns Peter around, Peter looks up at him, dazed, still breathing hard, his eyes half-lidded and lips red and bitten. He looks at Tony and he knows - just by the look on Tony's face - that he must look about as wrecked as he feels.

Shifting a little as he leans back against the door for support, Peter half-grimaces at the slick slide of his own come in his boxers. He glances down to make sure nothing has seeped through yet, but nothing appears to have done so. It's a small blessing even if it does feel kind of gross and hot. It reminds him of being way younger and _much_ more confused when he'd woken up to messy boxers and the _Vixen_ poster hanging up above his bed.

But before Peter can grouse a little over his current situation, Tony... Tony does something.

For a second, he looks softer, gentler, and Peter feels something sweet leap in his chest. His eyes widen a little and then Tony leans in. Peter stares, dumbstruck, as Tony kisses him softly, and he absolutely feels something in his chest melt. Letting out a shaky breath, Peter reaches up and hesitantly cups Tony's cheek with one hand. He kisses back like he's worried that Tony will take it away from him if he dares to push too hard, and when Tony draws back and leads him over to the sink, Peter feels... good.

He's a little disappointed to not be kissing Tony anymore, and _a lot_ confused over why Tony had kissed him so tenderly, but he's not complaining. And as Tony hands him paper towel and Peter flushes, but undoes his belt to kind of clean himself off, he's _very_ aware of Tony watching. Peter swallows.

"You're still-- I mean, you didn't-- uh. You know. Get off. I could... I mean, I wouldn't _mind_..."

* * *

If it's a sex thing - it's safe. Sex is what Tony's good at and familiar with. Tony has extensively studied and excelled at the whole screwin' around bit. Sex - one and done (or maybe a few times if it goes well) - keeps things simple. He's only tried a serious relationship once and of course, because it was Tony, he had to go all the way. He'd married his long-time friend and agent Pepper Potts. It had been a gunshot wedding, impulsive and-- well, Tony can't remember all that much. Despite it ending in an annulment, he'd been lucky enough that Pepper hadn't ditched him completely.

What he took away from that experience was: if he couldn't make it with her, he's not making it with anybody.

But as Peter cleans off his cock, Tony wonders how it would look like to be with Peter in general _and_ while not on camera. It's a weird, stray thought and not something he should give any more time or attention to because this _is_ just sexual. It has to be sexual. Tony can't do anything else. He doesn't want anything else.

Peter's verbal fumbling has Tony re-focusing on the matter at hand. He's not even concerned about himself being hard - his erection is already beginning to flag - and he can take care of it later.

"What? Nah. Don't worry about it, kid," Tony dismisses with an easygoing smile. "We don't have the time anyway. Rain check?" He offers it to Peter without much serious thought.

* * *

Peter's honestly not expecting Tony to give in to that idea. Despite how relaxed his muscles feel and despite the pleasant buzz in Peter's mind that can only come from an amazing orgasm, he's not forgotten what this probably is. These are rushed moments whenever Tony feels like having them and as much as Peter is into that, as much as the thought of Tony touching him in _any_ way still makes his breathing hitch and his cock ache, this is Tony's call. Tony is very clearly the one calling the shots.

What Peter can't really understand is why Tony hasn't been using him to get off the way he had that first night in the back of the Escalade. So when Tony dismisses the idea, Peter shoves back the little surge of disappointment and nods--

And then Tony adds in that last bit. A _rain check_. Peter feels a sudden jolt of excitement and he looks back at Tony with open interest.

"Yeah?" Peter breathes hopefully. A small smile works its way onto his lips. "Yeah. O-okay, cool. Sounds great."

* * *


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello filthy sinners/readers, please enjoy this 19k update of smut! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

* * *

* * *

This is so not allowed, but Tony doesn't care. Can't care. Will maybe care later. Peter wants him. Peter wants his _Daddy_ to fuck him. Peter's been thinking about it for weeks apparently. And yeah, Tony had told himself that fucking was the one thing that they wouldn't do, but Peter is's an adult. If Peter wants to lose his virginity to him, who's Tony to deny that sweet request?

This is impulsivity at it's best, but Tony makes the necessary arrangements. He has a penthouse suite permanently on hold for him in a nice but not _too_ nice of a hotel. He calls and lets them know that he'll be spending the night - but also that he'll be taking the private back way in (he already has a key card that allows him to do just that). If he takes the private entrance that means he's not to be disturbed - it also means that he's bringing a guest and discretion is of the utmost importance - nothing that money can't buy.

The pick up goes smoothly and Peter's already hard and fidgety (which Tony appreciates). Tony pointedly keeps the conversation _away _from what they're doing and where they're going as he believes that Peter might bust a nut if he doesn't (and he doesn't want their night starting like that). Besides, hours earlier Peter already came in his jeans.

The staff doesn't disappoint him and it's a quick and painless affair to park and take the service elevator up to his floor. Once they're inside the suite, shoes and jackets removed, Tony turns to a nervous looking Peter. 

"Now you can be as loud as you want, baby," Tony murmurs as he steps closer and presses a chaste kiss to Peter's mouth before the boy can respond.

* * *

Peter does what Tony tells him to, in a bit of a daze. He showers (for the second time that day), he gets himself ready, throws on a simple t-shirt and jeans and his hoodie, and when the allotted 40 minutes have passed, Peter sneaks out. There's only about half of the contestants left and everyone is already in bed, exhausted after rehearsals and catching sleep when they can. 

Hard and paranoid should _so_ not mix, but Peter's body apparently doesn't know that as he sneaks out. He's jittery, jumping at every stray noise because he knows this isn't supposed to be happening, but no one actually stops him. He meets Tony in his car, his pulse skips, and Peter slides into the Escalade before he can think too hard. 

The drive to the hotel is a little tense, but more because Peter's still reeling with everything. With the idea of a hotel, and being _fucked_ by _Tony Stark_, and... and _Daddy_. God, he can't believe he'd asked for that. That Tony had wanted him to say it. That it's a thing.

Peter's still kind of dazed and nervous even after he follows Tony up into the hotel room. Part of Peter thinks he should be staring, because this place is so much better than anything he's ever seen before, but he's too wired. He can't stop staring at Tony, and so when Tony speaks, telling Peter that he can be loud, Peter's breath hitches a bit. His cock - which had been flagging a little due to nerves - suddenly doesn't seem to care.

The kiss that Tony presses to Peter's lips is chaste, but after such a long car ride, after being on edge for so long, Peter makes a small sound, something hitched. He reaches up to wind his arm around Tony's neck as he kisses him back, maybe a little _too_ eagerly.

* * *

It's only _now_ that reality is rapidly catching up with Tony. 

And reality is that he's picked up Peter and brought him to his damn hotel suite. This is the suite that Tony uses explicitly… to be explicit with others, sometimes even more than one at a time if he's been feeling wild. Sure that's happened less so now than before (he is getting older, unfortunately), but he's already texted Peter and the verdict was that they're going to fuck.

And shit, yeah, he of course he wants to fuck Peter, Tony wants you do a lot things to _and_ with the kid, but Tony is very much aware that Peter is a virgin. Peter's only done things with hands and mouths and potentially a dick-in-his-ass is a pretty huge step up… but Tony is experienced. Tony knows what he's doing, at least in terms of proper preparation and procedure and that has to count for something.

He may kiss Peter lightly, but Peter has other things in mind. Peter's arms come to wrap around his neck and Peter's mouth is back hungrily on his own and who's Tony to disappoint? He kisses Peter like he means it and Tony does. Tony licks and bites at Peter's bottom lip as his hands roam down Peter's back before sliding to the front and undoing the zipper on Peter's hoodie. Yeah, the clothes need to go.

"Daddy thinks you're overdressed," Tony comments after breaking away from the kiss. But he doesn't want them to be stripping down in the entryway. He has more class than that. The lights are already on a low setting and Tony unwraps Peter's arms but does take Peter's hand as he leads them to the master bedroom. 

"We have at least a few hours, Pete," Tony goes on, grinning lasciviously. "And I plan on enjoying every second of every minute of those few hours."

* * *

Peter's pulse is pounding hard in his throat as he kisses Tony, because yeah, they've shared a few chaste kisses before, but it's never been _anything_ like this. Peter knows he's the one who starts it, but when Tony kisses back, licking and biting at Peter's lip and touching him everywhere, Peter feels his cock throb in his jeans. He groans softly into the kiss, because _god_, it's good. He's in way over his head, sure, but having Tony kiss him like he means it is so much more than Peter had ever thought it would be.

When the kiss breaks, Peter feels dazed and a little breathless. He lets Tony unzip his hoodie, and Peter does go to help... but then Tony says it.

_Daddy_.

It had been thrilling and humiliating and arousing to see it on his phone when Tony had texted him, but that has nothing on _hearing_ it. Peter curses softly, shakily, and he immediately lets Tony lead him past the entryway and into the other room. Peter's pretty sure that if he'd been any harder, just hearing Tony say that could have made him come.

Honestly he feels way more wired than he should when they reach the master bedroom. Jittery with nervous arousal, Peter nods, quick, anticipation clear in his eyes even if he's not at all experienced. 

God, he could _finally_ see Tony come, maybe. Could finally be responsible for it. The thought makes him ache.

"God, y-yeah, yeah, I'm-- I'm _so_ on board with that," Peter breathes, taking a small step back and almost falling back to sit on the bed when it hits the back of his knees. He's painfully, _obviously_ hard. "I want that too. To do it to you, too, I mean. And--and you to do it to me. I'm-- God, sorry, I sound stupid."

* * *

Tony's been _Daddy_ before to other partners, but definitely not one as young as Peter and yeah, maybe it's a little weird given that Tony is technically old enough to _be _Peter's father-- but he's not and this isn't about some pseudo incest fantasy anyway. This is mostly just a surface level kink of mixing caring and authority with an acknowledgement of him being older. Sometimes just the taboo nature is enough to enjoy it. Either way, Tony has no real plans on having some conversation about it.

Peter's practically vibrating with nerves and excitement and while the sight of the kid almost falling back onto the bed is amusing, Tony's not really interested in how awkward Peter can be (which Peter just proves with his subsequent rambling). Tony snorts softly under his breath before taking those few first steps over to his baby boy. Tony's already half hard - had been since picking Peter up - but given that Peter's jeans are tighter, the arousal issue is more prevalent on Peter (which suits him just fine).

"Come, you wanted to touch me, right?" Tony asks as he gestures at himself. "Take my shirt off."

* * *

Peter wants to kick himself the second he stops talking, but he honestly can't help this. He's not sexy, he's not _Tony_, and as cool as Peter can be on the internet, that's usual after he's managed to edit his awkward down. He's never talking directly to another person online, in person. This is so many levels of awkward and hot and Peter's half mortified, half worried that he's going to come the second that Tony touches him.

So when Tony steps in close, Peter tenses. He doesn't know what to expect but the reality of Tony's request makes Peter almost immediately hop to it. Peter's eyes widen and he looks at Tony's shirt. Peter hesitates for just a second and then he's rushing to comply, his fingers quick but reverent as he pulls the hem of Tony's shirt from his jeans and then begins to ease it up. 

The sight of bare skin makes Peter breathe a soft curse. His fingers skim along Tony's hips, his abdomen, and Peter squirms with arousal. He touches like he won't get another chance, and when he slides Tony's shirt off and gets his first real sight, Peter bites his lip and reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans.

"Oh wow. You-- God, Mr. Stark, you're so hot," Peter breathes, sliding his hands up Tony's chest a little like he could get off just by touching him.

* * *

Peter has wanted to touch him for a while and hasn't exactly been sly about it - not that Tony faults the kid. So far it's been Tony pulling all the strings and Peter mostly just reacting. There's a part in Tony's disturbed brain that still kinda feels like it's safer or better that way. If it's just _him_ touching Peter it's less... something. He doesn't know. He's pointedly not going to think about it. Not tonight.

Because Peter is eager and quick to work his shirt off and Tony helps, raising his arms when necessary until the t-shirt is removed and falls to the floor as Peter's hands then go to adjust his dick. The sight has Tony smirking and that smirk only grows as Peter almost reverently touches his chest and compliments his looks.

Now, Tony may be older - almost forty, christ - but he works hard to keep himself fit. It's no fun pounding back the health smoothies and running on the treadmill, but sacrifices have to be made. Sure, he has some greying chest hair and even a few 'wisdom strands' on his head, but he's still got it going on. Peter's wide eyes and touch confirms this.

"You're not too bad yourself," Tony replies smoothly. His grasps onto Peter's wrists - but it's not in admonishment. Tony simply guides Peter's hands on him, moving them slowly down his chest to his stomach and then down to his crotch where he's hard. 

Tony pushes Peter's palms against the line of his dick. "You want this, baby boy?"

* * *

There's so much that Peter wants to say, wants to do. He's seen Tony like this before but only in concerts or in photoshoots. He'd always been crazy hot then, even with the Photoshopping, and maybe Peter can see the difference now. Maybe Tony's got a few more freckles and the deep muscle definition is less pronounced in person. But as Peter stares almost reverently, he feels the thrill of knowledge that this is _real_.

His heart feels a little like it's going to pound out of his chest as he touches Tony's skin. Peter wants to kiss it, wants to drag his fingers through Tony's chest hair and feel it against his fingers.

When Tony suddenly takes his wrists, Peter tenses. He darts a quick look at Tony, anxiety spiking because... had he been touching too long? Was he supposed to have called Tony something different? Peter watches nervously as Tony guides his hands down, but he doesn't really _get_ it until his hands are guided _past_ Tony's belt.

Arousal hits Peter like a damn train. His gasp is quiet but telling and as he feels Tony's clothed cock under his hands, heat rushes to Peter's cheeks. He wets his lips and curls his fingers, touching carefully, rubbing, learning the feel of Tony's dick.

"Fuck... Yeah, yes. Yes, I do want-- want that. Want you. Can I-- can I see? Touch? God, please, Tony..." Peter bites his lip. He's never seen Tony more than half hard and he doesn't think he's ever wanted to see something more.

* * *

The kid is so damn expressive - because when Tony first grabs his wrists it looks like Peter thinks it's out of some kind of admonishment. That fear quickly morphs into understanding and arousal as Tony slides Peter's hands down _lower_. And Tony loves seeing how expressive Peter's face can get - his eyes widening, his eyebrows lifting or drawing in, his pretty lips smiling or opening in a gasp or those teeth biting at his bottom lip. Tony loves hearing that energetic vibrating quality of Peter's voice, how Peter stumbles over himself and repeats words in his excitement.

Peter Parker is wonderfully genuine and expressive and Tony is so fucking taken with his sweet baby boy. All he wants is _more_ \- more of Peter - more of those delicious reactions.

Tony is also aware that he doesn't deserve someone like Peter in any capacity - not as a friend, a hook up, or even a fan - but fuck, Peter's presence is like a drug and Tony has always had an addictive personality. 

His eyes flick from the sight of Peter's fingers rubbing and feeling his dick up to Peter's face. Tony licks his lips before addressing the eager kid. 

"'Course you can, baby, but I want you to do something for me first," Tony answers and he gently pulls Peter's hands away from his crotch before letting them go. "You gotta get naked for Daddy and then I'll let you undress me."

* * *

Tony's dick is hot and hard under Peter's hands and all he wants is to pull Tony's jeans down and touch. Peter hasn't given many blowjobs in his life, and the outline of Tony's dick looks a little big, but he'd try. He wants to, even if Peter does know that it's probably a horrible idea. He shouldn't even _be_ here. He's risking his place in the competition because he's hot for his mentor, but knowing that Tony is hard because of him? Knowing that Tony's breaking the rules too? That's a rush.

Still, for a split second when Tony eases his hands away, Peter darts an immediate look up at him. There's wariness in his eyes, a mixture of uncertainty and want, because god, he wants this, but he doesn't know what _Tony_ wants--

As soon as he knows what it is, Peter goes still. He blinks at Tony, as though shocked that it's that simple. Then, with a soft exhale, he nods and reaches down. He strips his shirt off without thinking about it, and he quickly undoes his jeans. He's only just stepping out of them, his hands on his boxers, when he finally hesitates. He's only been naked in front of a few people before, and there's something... intimate about the idea of being naked while Tony's still half-dressed.

Peter's pulse skips a little, but before he can think himself into a frenzy, he takes a breath and slides his boxers down, stepping out of them. He looks up at Tony immediately, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach even if his cock stays obviously red and hard. 

"Is this okay? Can I undress--" Peter hesitates, because the word _Daddy_ is there, in his mind, but he doesn't know how to say it. "--you?"

* * *

It's skeevy to suggest that Peter undress first before he does, but Tony at least fully plans on putting out tonight and not holding back. He won't bar Peter from seeing or touching him either. Peter deserves that much at least. If Tony is going to legit pop the kid's cherry, Tony will allow Peter to upsize from the kid's meal.

It's obvious that taking the hoodie off is simple enough for Peter and same with the jeans. Tony blatantly watches, eyes hungrily eating up all bared skin available. There's still a smattering of body hair, yes, but it's not too much. Peter looks young and agile and somehow endearingly awkward when his hands pause on removing his boxers. Tony's already seen and sucked his cock, yeah, but full on _nakedness_ is more vulnerable. He gets it, so maybe that's why Tony doesn't goad Peter or rush him in this.

Peter eventually gears himself up and the boxers are pulled down and then stepped out of, Peter's cock springing free - still as lovely as ever. Tony smiles approvingly as soon as Peter is looking up at him, but the stilted question has Tony's eyebrows raising. 

"I don't think you _can _get any more naked, so it must be okay," Tony teases. He 's closing the distance between them and directing Peter's hands to his belt. "Now, you can call me Tony, Mr. Stark, Sir, _Daddy_... whatever you want, baby, just don't censor yourself. Not when you're with me."

* * *

There is no way that Tony can't see the way that Peter's cock gives a small twitch at the word _Daddy_, or the way the small hairs on the back of his arms stand up a bit when a shiver runs through him at the sound of it on Tony's lips. Yeah, it doesn't matter that he'd already heard Tony say it a minute ago, it's still just... Peter doesn't even know how to describe it. It makes something thrill and squirm in his chest in equal measure, makes him feel hotter and embarrassed at the same time, because he hadn't even known he'd liked that kind of thing. He honestly isn't sure if he does, or if it's just _Tony_ saying it that he likes.

Peter swallows a little thickly and nods. He nods for a little too long, just showcasing that he's distracted and excited and aroused all at once. His fingers hesitate, then he undoes Tony's belt, pulling the tongue of it back out and letting the stiff leather splay out almost obscenely once he has it undone. Peter's fingers move to the button on Tony's jeans, and he undoes it, then goes for the zipper, but slower, like he's _really_ locking it away in his head.

Or like he's thinking. Or both. Because he darts a quick look up at Tony and then back down at his belt, at the obvious rise in his jeans.

"I don't know what I want to call you," he admits, awkwardly. "'Mr. Stark' is like-- like my default now, and 'Sir' isn't far off. 'Tony' is still... new. But--" Peter trails off, and he feels a small thrill shoot through his chest. He wets his lips. "But, uh-- I mean... I think I like when _you_ say-- _you know._ But it feels like--... it's kinda, um. Embarrassing."

* * *

Tony knows that _Daddy_ really gets Peter going, but from the kid's reluctance in saying the actual word Tony assumes that Peter has never dabbled with this kind of thing before. It doesn't bother or irritate him, however. Oh, no no no, Tony fucking lives for popping as many metaphorical cherries as he can when it comes to Peter Parker. He's selfish like that.

Peter just nods like an idiot for a few seconds too long. Tony waits, a grin playing on his lips because he adores just how stunned and taken Peter is with him. Peter's eager fingers eventually do get working and come to undo the belt then pop out the button. The zipper being pulled down is done considerably slower and Tony has to give the kid props for that because there's definitely a time and a place for building anticipation. 

Tony listens as Peter talks about his uncertainty with the titles and whatnot, arms by his side. When Peter mentions _embarrassment_ over _Daddy_, that's when Tony can't help but perk up. His hands are reaching up to take Peter's face in both hands.

"Oh, baby boy," he soothes as his fingers then stroke through Peter's hair. It's difficult to stay still and not want to touch Peter everywhere. "There's nothin' to be embarrassed over...That said, even if you _are_ embarrassed... I'll tell you that I like it. That I get off on it." Tony's fingers suddenly curl and grip at Peter's hair, pulling his head back and elongating Peter's pretty throat. 

"And that I'm not going to stop." He licks up Peter's neck. "Not going to fucking stop, Peter."

* * *

Peter knows that it's not really _done_ to talk about being embarrassed. 'Embarrassed' is something you maybe admit to your friends and definitely not to anyone else, because it usually just earns you awkward or judgmental looks. Peter's honestly kind of expecting that when he admits being embarrassed to Tony, so he's definitely not expecting Tony to suddenly cup his face in both hands. 

An immediate, jittery thrill races through Peter's chest, because Tony's hands are kind of rough, but warm and strong and god, he has it bad. His eyes close briefly when Tony pets through his hair, and Peter thinks he could _so_ get used to that. He actually does begin to relax a little, even leans into it as Tony reassures him. But before he can really get into it, Tony admits to _liking it_. 

Just for a second, Peter's a little confused. Tony gets off on... what? Peter calling him 'Daddy', or Peter's embarrassment? He's about to ask, but then suddenly Tony's gripping his hair and pulling his head back and Peter gasps sharply at the dual pain and surprise. And, somewhat guiltily, over the way a clear bead of precome wets the tip of his dick. He makes a small sound, tighter, leaning back to ease the pressure in his hair, and the feeling of Tony at his throat and all around him is like riding a roller-coaster. Thrilling and dangerous and addicting.

"God-- Tony," he shivers. "You-- you get off on what? You-- fuck, keep doing that," Peter says, reaching up to set his hands on Tony's chest, just chasing that connection.

* * *

Peter is naked and hard, their clothes pooled on the floor and Tony's hands grip hair that he wants to both be gentle and rough with. Tony's belt is undone, the zipper down, but his jeans hug along his hips because Peter got off track on his quest. Tony bets that this is going to happen again with Peter - because Peter is a virgin and Peter is excited and nervous and _fuck_, Tony loves the energy and hype and arousal that Peter exudes. He wishes they could have all night to bask in it, but he knows that'd be unwise. Just a few hours - not nearly enough time - but certainly better than stolen minutes in a bathroom.

Peter's stumbling question and request has Tony chuckling, smug and pleased. He hadn't tried to be vague on purpose, but Peter, just by his nature, needs him to be blunt (which, really, Tony doesn't mind). He yanks on Peter's hair, keeping Peter's head back as he licks lower and purposely nips at Peter's collarbone - somewhere that he's able to leave a mark with no consequences. 

"Get off on you being embarrassed," Tony murmurs after kissing reddened skin. His teeth scrape along Peter's neck before he's leaning in closer to be able to directly speak into Peter's ear. "As long as you're embarrassed _because _of _me,_ because I get you so hard and horny, and because you know how much I fucking want you."

* * *

Tony gets off on him being embarrassed. Peter knows what he'd heard and a part of him immediately wonders if that's something normal to get off on. In his experience, embarrassment had always been a negative emotion, but standing there now, with Tony's mouth hot on his throat, teeth sharp, Peter isn't so sure. Because even if it's supposed to be unpleasant, Peter feels a small jolt of arousal at the idea that Tony could get off on that. 

He makes a smaller, desperate sound in the back of his throat, his cock leaking at the tug to his hair and Tony's promise. And if Tony does get off on it, Peter suddenly doesn't mind as much. His hands gently trail down Tony's chest and then he thinks better of it and curiously scratches down instead. He scratches all the way to Tony's hips even if he can't see them and, with slightly fumbling fingers, Peter pushes at the hem of Tony's jeans. 

"Fuck... You do. You really, really do. Get-- get me so hard _all_ the time." Peter's voice is thinner with the angle of his throat but when he swallows thickly, it just means that it's obvious. 

He pushes Tony's jeans lower, low enough that they slide down on their own, even if Peter can't see. And God, he just wants to see. A shiver races through him at the thought and he fights against the hold on his hair, just a bit. 

"God, let me see you? Please? Been thinking about it for _weeks_, for fucking years. Please Tony. Please--" Peter feels a twist of embarrassment, feels his face all but flame, but finishes. "Please Daddy."

* * *

Maybe it's messed up to get off on such a thing, but Tony's certain that there are far _worse_ or at least weirder kinks out there. It's not that he's a complete prick either - he doesn't want Peter to be supremely uncomfortable or totally humiliated… but a little bit of embarrassment isn't overly harmful. Tony would never make it a big thing. He may be an asshole, but he's not looking to cause severe mental duress here and he's not especially interested in Peter being embarrassed by others or in general.

But Peter doesn't seem bothered by it, Peter's hands lifting to touch him back and Peter pleasantly surprises him by actually _scratching_ down his chest and the low groan that Tony gives is completely genuine. It's obvious enough what Peter wants and Tony wants it too - for them both to be naked - but that doesn't mean he rushes to allow Peter to do that.

Peter manages to coax the jeans down enough where gravity takes over and it seems to get Peter riled up because the kid is pulling back a little against Tony's grasp. But it's worth the wait to hear Peter beg so desperately, and then, finally, uses _Daddy_ again. Tony kisses underneath Peter's ear before he eases Peter's head back up. 

"Of course you can, Pete," Tony says warmly. "Finish undressing me now."

* * *

The word is just a word, but it still makes Peter's insides squirm with embarrassment. He feels hot all over, feels the prickle of heat all the way down his throat, but then Tony's lips are just below his ear and Peter's breath hitches. That spot - much to his confusion - is sensitive, and having Tony's lips against it, the scratch of his goatee, has Peter's cock aching. Or maybe it's just what he'd said, what he'd allowed himself to say. God, he can't believe he'd said it--

But then Tony is letting go enough for Peter to ease the strain in his neck. He's not sure he can meet Tony's eyes until Tony gives him permission to undress him. Then Peter looks at him sharply, his eyes wide with interest, and there's something about the sudden warmth in Tony's voice that all but melts him. Peter smiles without meaning to and then, nodding quickly, he slides his hands down.

Peter hooks his fingers in Tony's boxers and, wetting his lips with anticipation, he carefully eases them down. His pulse is loud in his ears, and when Tony's cock finally springs free of its confinement, Peter gasps and almost stops what he's doing just to look at it. He doesn't; he manages to catch himself before he can do that, but he doesn't take his eyes away from Tony's cock even as Tony's boxers finally slide down his legs. 

"Oh, wow," Peter breathes when he feels like he can. He reaches out and he's _almost_ touching when he remembers himself and jerks his hand back. The hunger in his eyes is probably painfully obvious. "Can I touch you? God, ever since the-- the Escalade, I just-- please?"

* * *

There's nothing quite like seeing a bright smile show up on Peter's face. It's something Tony has been thinking for a few weeks now. It affirms that a little niceness can go a long way - good to know - because usually Tony isn't so genuine in these endeavors. Unless he's trying to prove a point of some kind, Tony prefers rushed and wild because he doesn't owe his hook-ups anything but a little slice of himself. 

But he feels like he owes Peter this, that Peter deserves what he's been after - seeing and touching Tony's dick, apparently and he's not complaining. Tony might actually feel a bit humbled at Peter's almost-reverence in the task. Peter's so cute and focused as he pulls down his boxers, the last remaining article of clothing on him. There's no shame in being exposed like this. Tony keeps everything neat and tidy and hey, he's got a nice dick. 

Tony steps out of his jeans and boxers, kicking them away haphazardly, all the while Peter's eyes, wide and interested, are glued on him. Heat spikes through Tony as Peter almost reaches out, but then decides to be safer and _ask_ instead. Tony's hand lifts to the back of Peter's head, grasping and urging Peter to come closer. 

"Go ahead, baby," Tony encourages. "Get nice and familiar with it."

* * *

Up until the moment that Tony's fingers slide carefully through his hair and gently urge him in closer, Peter is honestly expecting there to be some sort of excuse. He's not an idiot, and while he doesn't know _why_ Tony hasn't been as interested in the idea of Peter touching him back, he has noticed. But it's not like he can point it out, because if Tony isn't interested in it--

But then he's being gently urged closer and something all but leaps in Peter's chest. He snaps his gaze up to Tony's eyes, meeting them in open shock. Is Tony letting him? Is he actually allowed--

Oh. God. He is. Peter's heart feels like it's fluttering a little too fast when he looks back down. And, under Tony's guidance, Peter steps in closer, close enough to smell Tony's aftershave and feel the heat of his skin as Peter's arm brushes over his chest. His pulse is pounding hard in his throat as he reaches down and finally, _finally_ brushes his fingers over the head of Tony's cock for the first time.

A drop of precome beads on the tip of Peter's cock, like Tony is the one touching him and not the other way around. He lets out a slightly shuddering breath, impossibly turned on, because god, he's _touching Tony Stark_. Finally. Peter swallows and carefully wraps his hand around Tony's dick, giving it a slow stroke, learning the weight and feel of it and suddenly, _acutely_ aware that this will be inside him soon. God, he feels close just from this.

"Fuck, Tony," Peter says, and he probably sounds impossibly turned on. "You feel so hot."

* * *

Tony knows how he'd behaved with Peter in the past, how unfairly one-sided it likely had come across as, but he knows he'd been trying to hold back. Stolen, rushed moments where they could get caught? They had to be careful and Tony had barely managed to be in control of himself. If Peter had been able to touch and do whatever he pleased, Tony knows all bets would have been off. He'd done what was necessary...

They have privacy now and the time - _hours_ even. Yeah, it's still not enough, but it's a significant increase compared to mere minutes. And Tony may be acting fine and composed, but there's a real part of him that wants to fucking throw Peter to the bed and have his way with him pronto. 

He doesn't. He waits, arousal buzzing through him as Peter's shaky hand reaches down and makes contact. Fingertips skitter over the head of his cock and Tony wets his lips, intently watching as Peter finally gets to do what he wants. Peter is slow with it, breathing harshly just from that slight touch and then Peter's fingers close around his length and Tony's stomach tenses at the careful stroke Peter gives it.

"So hot and hard because of you," Tony murmurs with a glint in his eye, oh so pleased to see how rapt Peter is. 

And Tony _does_ try and wait, to allow Peter at least a handful of seconds of exploration, before his own hand is reaching out to grasp Peter's dick. He angles his hips, shifting their cocks closer in the process and purposely nestling Peter's cock next to his. Tony's other hand comes to rest over Peter's, encouraging Peter to - as best as he can manage - stroke them both.

* * *

Peter can't even remember how long he's been aching to touch Tony like this, and now that he _is_, it's like sensory overload. Which is ridiculous, he knows, but he's been on edge for what feels like hours, and he's been aching to do _this_ for weeks at least. Tony's cock is perfect and hot and all silken-hardness in Peter's hand, so like his own but so different at the same time. 

He feels almost paralyzed as he strokes it, torn by indecision. One bold part of him wants to drop to his knees right there, but Peter knows his experience in this whole thing is lacking, and _god_, what if he gagged or something?

He must get lost in the fantasy - or maybe less time passes than Peter thinks - because he absolutely doesn't notice it when Tony suddenly reaches over. He _does_ notice the grip around his cock, though, and Peter jerks with a small gasp of surprise, his thoughts racing back to the present. He looks down in time to see Tony shifting, watches as their dicks press together, and oh, _wow_, that's a new feeling. Peter's breathing quickens, but it isn't until Tony encourages Peter's hand to wrap around them _both_ that he realizes just how fucking turned on he is.

"F-fuck, Tony-- god, wait a sec--" Peter gasps out as Tony's hand comes to press against the back of his. He tries to pull his hand away but Tony's is there, guiding, and Peter makes a bitten-off sound of high desperation because no, _fuck_, no, he's not going to--

But he is. All it takes it a few guided strokes before Peter can't take it. His face flames in embarrassment as he grabs at Tony's shoulder for balance and jerks hard, his hips twitching desperately. Pleasure surges hotly inside, and Peter's coming before he can even try to hold it back, shooting hot over Tony's dick and his own hand.

* * *

Tony's sucked on Peter's dick, his cheeks hollowed as he bobbed his head and worked Peter until he was shooting down his throat. So Tony knows this dick - not as intimately as he'd like - but they've been previously introduced. Peter has a pretty cock, not quite as thick as his, but still substantial and the length is nothing to scoff at. Tony thinks Peter's dick looks even nicer next to his. Without lube and given that Peter's hand is smaller, this is a bit awkward, but the slide of smooth heated skin against his cock feels great.

Tony slides Peter's hand up and down and Peter is gasping but Tony ignores it because it's the typical fumbling and swearing that Peter's always done. It's only a few strokes that he manages to guide Peter through until Peter is jerking and making the sweetest surprised-pleasured sound. Tony doesn't take his hand away, but his eyes do widen as Peter just fucking comes from _this_, splatters of hot come layering over their skin. 

Well then.

"Oh, baby boy, you are _so _easy for me, aren't you?" Tony comments more to himself than to Peter. 

He's not bothered by this surprise orgasm because he's not done with Peter. Besides, it just proves how into him that Peter is. Before Peter can fully come down and likely - and stupidly - apologize, Tony's hands - one wet and one dry - come to Peter's shoulders. He's turning Peter around and pushing him over and onto the bed. Peter, still shaking from his sudden orgasm, is pliant and Tony uses this to his advantage as he climbs next to him and gets Peter onto his knees and pulls his ass up and over to him. 

"Keep your ass up." 

No other warning is given as his hands slide lower and his fingers spread Peter open, exposing a virgin-hole that's _all_ his. Tony can't stop himself, he knows he should go slow and let Peter adjust, but he doesn't. He leans in and uses his tongue to immediately lap at Peter, sloppy and hungry.

* * *

Peter's fairly sure that he's going to actually _die_ of embarrassment this time, because there is no coming back from that. He knows he can go again; Tony probably does too, but that doesn't stop his cheeks from burning despite the waves of pleasure that crash down over him. He immediately wants to apologize but the words get stuck behind his panting and the aftershocks, and fuck, he's so not living this one down. Even _Tony_ has to know - even _says_ it - and Peter feels a twist of embarrassment and arousal, because yeah. Yeah, he is way too easy for Tony, fuck.

He's also too strung out on pleasure to really argue when Tony begins to move him. Still breathless, cock not exactly softening as much as it probably should (because Tony's still naked in front of him), Peter tries to follow Tony's instructions. He's turned around and pushed onto the bed, and Peter kind of stumbles down onto it. He's still shaking, still breathless, everything still sensitive, but Tony's not disgusted, or annoyed, so Peter's going to count it as a win.

He's about to apologize when Tony climbs onto the bed next to him and suddenly jerks him up. Peter makes a small sound, confused more than alarmed. He gets his knees under him, and god, okay, this position is-- is Tony going to-- he wouldn't, not without _lube_\-- but Peter doesn't move, and so Peter is absolutely, completely unprepared for what Tony _does_.

"O-oh _fuck!"_ Peter gasps, because the second that Tony's tongue touches his skin, it's already too much. He feels dizzy with the knowledge of what Tony is doing, feels the sudden twist of arousal as a sharp sensitivity in his dick, and Peter chokes out Tony's name desperately as he squirms. Not even he knows if it's to get more or to get away, but it's intense and hot and intimate and Peter can feel Tony's beard against his skin-- 

"Fuck, fuck-- _Tony!"_

* * *

Peter deserves sweet kisses trailed down his spine. His ass deserves a lovely and thorough massage with scented oils. Tony would like to take his time working Peter up so slowly, trailing lips and teeth and fingertips all over Peter's body, discovering each little sensitive spot present - some possibly even nonsexual. He wants to both explore and overdose on Peter, to fully give into pounding hedonism--

And maybe this is it right now because Peter is shaking and gasping and swearing from his tongue and god, does Peter ever do it for him. Tony's fuelled by hunger, his fingers gripping tightly and keeping Peter spread and not allowing Peter to possibly crawl away. Tony gives it his all and he knows he should be _better_ than this, he should be giving Peter a much more considerate introduction, but slow isn't what he can manage. Not now.

So he pointedly licks at Peter's ass, uncaring about how the lower half of his face is getting wet from his own spit. It doesn't matter. Nothing fucking matters other than the heated skin he's licking at and how Peter sounds destroyed, how his body is deliciously tight. Tony growls low in his throat before he's forcibly spearing the tip of his tongue into Peter's twitching hole, fully intending to get what he wants. 

* * *

Peter's not thinking of anything but Tony. Honestly, he doesn't know how he's supposed to think about anything else ever again, because there's no transition from one situation to the next. Tony doesn't ease him into this. Peter's still shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm, still sensitive, still trying to catch his breath, but none of that is possible like this. 

Because 'this' is Tony licking at his hole like it's the only thing he wants. Peter feels dizzy with it - with the mix of pleasure and _newness_ and embarrassment the position brings - and he's torn between squirming and pushing back or trying to pull away to get used to it first, because Tony doesn't give him the chance to acclimatize. 

Instead, Tony goes for it. His tongue is hot and wet and insistent and his hands grip tight enough to bruise. Peter feels the sting of sensitivity and the wash of pleasure, and it's so damn intimate and new and overwhelming that his breath comes out as softer, desperate sounds. 

Peter's toes curl into the sheets, and he rocks back and forth, his hips moving as much as they can, but Tony just chases him, keeps pushing, and Peter's cock is already getting hard again, sensitive or not. But when Tony licks _into_ him, when his tongue tenses and then presses inside, Peter cries out. He bites it back at first, then realizes he can _do that_ here, and when Tony's tongue slides over impossibly sensitive skin again, Peter just gives in. He grabs at the sheets with a sob of over-sensitivity and shakes at the feeling.

"God, Mr. Stark, this is-- I can't-- god, I can't believe you're..." Peter tries again and again to talk, breathless, but he can't. It's too much, too good. "Fuck, please, _please_," he finishes, not even sure that he knows what he's asking for.

* * *

Tony is getting what he wants - but then again, he _usually_ does. Still, getting Peter - having Peter like this - quaking on his hotel bed and making the sweetest most desperate sounds? It's better than anything Tony can think of. It pulls him in, the heat and urgency fucking skyrocketing and Tony feels ravenous for Peter, hungry for every little twitch, every moan, every gasp - as long as _he's_ the one causing them.

Peter may try to unconsciously create some distance - to seek out some respite - but Tony doesn't let him have it. Tony's grip is strong and he buries his head between Peter's ass with a single minded focus of licking and tongue fucking Peter's sweet hole. It's not _all_ mindless, there is a purpose. Enthusiastic rimming is a great precursor to fingering and considering that Peter's never been fucked before, Tony is determined to make it phenomenal. 

Peter sounds wrecked and overwhelmed in the best possible way and Tony redoubles his efforts after hearing Peter _beg_ him. Tony isn't sure how quick Peter could come again or if Peter is even wanting to work toward that, but that's not Tony's focus right now. He does ease back a bit, humming as the tip of his tongue slides out and he returns back to lapping against Peter's sensitive hole. 

"Such a good boy for me," Tony praises as he catches his breath. He only gives Peter a break for a few seconds before he's back and thrusting his tongue in languidly.

* * *

It's way too much. Peter's jerked off before, usually to thoughts of Tony, and he's teased himself hard again when he's been _really_ pent up, but this goes way beyond that. This is immediate and so damn intimate that Peter wants to shy away just as much as he wants to spread his legs wider and feel more. All he knows is that it's good, even if his cock is stinging a little with sensitivity over how quickly he's getting hard again. 

Peter almost wants to reach down and soothe himself, but he feels so damn _much_, is the thing. He's still shaking from his last orgasm and he feels weak with it. He makes a move to reach down, but Tony fucks into him with his tongue again and Peter gasps, his back arching, and he immediately abandons the attempt. God, Tony feels good, and as overwhelming and sensitive as it is, Peter still rocks back into the feeling, breathing hard, desperate. 

Tony's praise is like a balm to his senses, gentle and soothing and reassuring and Peter shudders with a low groan. He's grateful for those few slow licks over his hole, relieved that Tony's giving him a moment, but when he tenses his tongue again and thrusts it in slow, Peter clenches involuntarily and his cock - now hard between his legs - gives a small twitch. 

He finally manages to reach back, finally frees one hand. Peter's fingers slide over Tony's hair, then into it, groping a little clumsily at him as he grips gently. Breathing hard, he arches his back, trying to make it easier as he maintains _some_ contact. 

"God, you-- you feel good," Peter grinds out breathlessly. "But it's-- it's _so much_, fuck, I don't know if I can--"

* * *

Pacing? Nope, no way. What's that? It's something that's being blatantly disregarded right now. Tony's never been good with patience and while he knows that all of this is new for Peter and that Peter likely would do well with a break, it's difficult to rein himself in. Like, really difficult. Peter's skin is so hot and slick with his spit and Tony can feel the tension buzzing through Peter's body, muscles clenching, hole sensitive and so, so receptive to his tongue and touch.

It's maddening, it's something Tony wants to do for hours, to lick and fuck into Peter and force these intense sensations on him (because Tony _would_ push himself despite the ache in his jaw). Because, like this, Peter can't think about anything else, Peter can't be worried and Tony is an asshole and he wants Peter to be so wound up within him--

Tony comes back to his senses when Peter's hand reaches back and touches him. He finally pulls away, breathing shallowly as he tries to catch his breath. Tony can see that Peter's hard and shaking - overwhelmed and Tony's not sure it's even in a _good way_. He takes Peter's hand and he leans down, wiping his wet mouth against the back of it. 

"Is Daddy's boy okay?" Tony asks, his voice rough as he squeezes Peter's hand before he's coming to lie next to Peter and pulling him close and against his chest.

* * *

Tony pulling _away_ is the last thing that Peter wants, or at least he thinks so. The moment that Tony's tongue draws back, Peter feels a little like he can breathe again, but the loss of sensitivity and connection isn't something he's pleased about either. He makes a small sound, breathless, edging on desperate as Tony draws back, and his fingers curl uselessly in hair too short to get a real grip on. So Tony draws back and Peter struggles to catch his breath, his dick hard and oversensitive, his skin damp with sweat. 

Peter can't help the odd rush of arousal he feels when Tony wipes his face off on the back of Peter's hand, though. It should be degrading in a way, right? Peter's too wound up to really know for sure. But before he can question it further, Tony's moving and easing himself down next to Peter, and then - just as Peter sends him a dazed look, his face flushed, pupils blown wide - Tony reaches out and pulls him in closer.

It's like Tony's just wrapped him in a blanket or something. Peter lets out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding, and while his skin still stings with sensitivity, and while the sudden feeling of _so much skin_ against his is bordering on overwhelming, Peter sinks into it. He immediately winds an arm around Tony's chest, presses in close, breathing hard and trembling as he's given a break. Peter's torn between the desire to touch and explore, and the desire to catch his breath. Tony at least seems to understand.

But fuck. 'Daddy's boy.' Peter's breath hitches. He nods slowly, still breathing hard, and turns so his dick isn't dragging against the sheets.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm-- I'm okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean you had to stop. Was just... fuck, s'a lot. I like it," he hastens to add. "I just... needed to-- I don't know. To touch you. Could have come from that, god, Ton--... Daddy."

* * *

It's not necessarily in Tony's nature to go for the PAUSE button, but even he can see the merits of periodic breaks or slowing things down. He does wonder how long Peter would have lasted before he was begging for more or for Tony to stop. Such thoughts are interesting to think about, but now that Tony _has_ Peter here with him, such musings can be for later, for when he's alone and sitting in the dark, laptop open and images or videos of Peter displaying on the screen.

Peter lets himself be held onto and he predictably scrambles to cling right back to Tony. They're both messy, come drying on their skin and Tony's spit slicking up Peter's hole and cleft. Tony isn't concerned about it, besides he plans on getting them dirtier (much more dirtier if he has his way and he plans on having his way). 

His baby boy is so sweet apologizing and Tony could be a dick and ride this horse town, to lay on the guilt and make Peter feel bad for supposedly 'making' him stop (which isn't true), but then Peter says _Daddy_ and he decides he'll forgo being a dick for now. He's still painfully hard, but jizzing isn't the most pressing matter on Tony's mind.

"It's okay, Pete," Tony assures as his hands run over Peter's back soothingly. "You still want me to fuck you? Like, _really_ fuck you? If so, we should get on that, baby." 

Anal sex can't be enjoyed impulsively so Tony would rather get started now.

* * *

The word feels weird on Peter's tongue and it sends a rush of heat through him, mostly embarrassed but not _only_ that. He doesn't know what he's expecting, and really, Tony's reaction isn't mind-blowing, but it's still exactly what Peter needs. Because instead of goading him, or pushing, Tony's hands stroke carefully over Peter's back and he feels some of that wound-up tension begin to ease. The touch is sensitive, almost _too_ sensitive, but the careful, rhythmic nature of it does help Peter begin to come back down.

Sensitive as he is, Tony's question should have an obvious answer, but Peter shoves it away forcibly. God, he doesn't _care_ how sensitive he is, or how overwhelming it might be. Just the thought of Tony actually fucking him makes his cock twitch and sting, and his breath hitch audibly. Peter shivers and nods not a second later. He'd made up his mind when he'd met Tony downstairs.

"Yeah, yes, ab-absolutely," Peter breathes, drawing back just enough to look down at Tony. He steals a look at him - a real look - from the tight, coiled muscles to the sheer fucking size of his dick, and Peter feels something hot twist low in his stomach. Fuck, he doesn't know how _anyone_ could-- but he wants to try. He's pretty sure his sixteen-year-old self would slaughter him if he didn't.

"Just, uh... just tell me what you need me to do? I want this," he adds decisively. "For real."

* * *

Tony's been told - through a text message - that Peter is a virgin. Peter had _almost_ had sex with some girl, but no one's been inside Peter. Peter's never been known like that and fucked and now Tony has that very opportunity. Peter trusts him enough, Peter _wants_ him, and Tony has no idea how he's going to last once his cock is finally buried inside Peter, but he'll manage. He always does. 

Tony smirks knowingly when Peter agrees and then looks _down_ obviously gauging the size of his dick. Thankfully Peter doesn't chicken out. Peter's earnest as ever, inquiring about what he should do and Peter's sweetness is dangerous, it makes Tony want to just ravage the boy, to suck up every last drop of goodness, to ruin Peter so no one else would take him and then Peter would be stuck with him.

They're wretched thoughts that Tony usually tries to drown in alcohol. There's alcohol in the room too, but it'd take too much to even near the point of hazy. 

"You lay on your side for me, baby, your knees curled up a little and hold onto a pillow," Tony instructs as he gently works himself free of Peter. 

While Peter positions himself, Tony's reaching for lube that's stashed away in the bedside table. Once retrieved, he comes to rest behind Peter, wasting no time in squeezing out an ample amount of lube onto his fingers and rubs them together. 

"Going to just say hi," he teases as slick fingers move to Peter's ass, fingertips stroking down until finding that waiting puckered hole. Tony's free arm sneaks under the pillow to scoot himself closer and he kisses at Peter's shoulder. 

"You ready, Pete?" Tony's index finger traces over the furled skin before applying the slightest of pressure, but he doesn't push it in.

* * *

Peter's pulse is rabbit-quick in his chest as Tony tells him what to do, because this is real. This is something that is actually _happening_, and Peter doesn't even know how he's supposed to handle it. Just the feeling of Tony pulling away from him has Peter biting back a soft, unhappy sound, but he's better than that. He can do this. He _wants_ to do this. 

So he reaches up and grabs for the pillow that Tony had been laying down on as Tony retrieves the lube (which sends another thrill through Peter). He hugs it tighter, and as he draws his knees up and he feels Tony settle in behind him, Peter thinks that maybe the pillow isn't actually needed, but Tony knows him enough to know that he's got to hold onto something. Peter tries not to feel embarrassed by that.

God, feeling Tony slip in _behind_ him, though? That's hot. Peter bites his lip, his dick hard and aching between his legs, and when he feels Tony's fingers slide down over the spit-slicked skin with a _new_ slickness, Peter's breath catches in his throat. He makes himself relax, focuses on how _good_ Tony's finger feels just touching, and fuck. _Fuck_, this is actually happening.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready," Peter says, even if he doesn't really feel like he is. He squirms just a bit, breathing quicker. "I-- just, um. I might not last. If it feels as good as your tongue did. But I don't want you to stop, Mr. Stark. I swear. I can handle it."

* * *

No matter how much his dick aches to press in between those pale wet cheeks and then push its way into Peter's searing, gripping heat, Tony won't. Men don't work that way and he knows that. Even if he used enough lube, it'd hurt Peter far too badly. Patience. Preparation. Stretching. Tony knows the gig and despite his own ravenous hunger, Tony isn't going to make this bad for Peter. 

He's not thinking about whether or not there will be a _next time_ for any of this (of course there _shouldn't_ be, but the shouldn'ts haven't had a very good time stopping him in the past). This moment, Peter's skin, his body naked all for Tony, his hitched breathes, it all dominates Tony. 

Peter's hole is hot and receptive and the previous tongue-action should have it loose enough for one finger to not be too much of a stretch (pun intended). Still, Tony asks and Peter's quick to agree and warn about lasting (which is cute).

So Tony's fingertip pushes past that ring of muscle and slowly slides in. 

"It's up to me if I want it to feel really good," Tony explains as his finger bottoms out. Peter's insides are hot and tight around him and it's the perfect invitation. He can't wait to feel it around his dick. "I can be practical, just stretching you, nothing added…" Tony demonstrates this, his finger working at a slower pace of in-and-out. 

"Or I can make you squirm."

* * *

Peter doesn't even realize how wired he is until he feels Tony's finger beginning to push. He tenses a little in anticipation before remembering that that's probably a bad idea, but it's hard to think straight on _any_ concept here because god, this is actually happening. Peter shudders and closes his eyes, a soft breath escaping him as he feels the slow press of Tony's finger into his body. Just his tongue had been bordering on too much, but that had been a wet, giving heat. Tony's finger isn't, and god, Peter's so fucked.

Because the roughness of Tony's finger feels amazing, and while it's a lot of odd sensation all at once, Peter feels good. It's a deeper pleasure, and he's still not sure how his ass can feel _that_ good, and that sensitive, but clearly it's possible. He's living it.

"God--" Peter bites out, and after a few seconds he manages to make himself relax. He feels Tony pressed against his back, feels the heat of him, how overwhelming it is to have him there, and Peter tightens his hold on the pillow a little. He can feel his dick aching, _especially_ when Tony begins to press in with his finger, his voice low.

"You-- do you know what you want to do?" He asks, because he hadn't missed that Tony had said this was _his_ decision. Peter doesn't know why that thought is so hot. "Which--which option, I mean. Because if _this_ isn't making me squirm-- God. I can't even _imagine_ how that'd feel. This feels-- fuck. Feels really good." 

* * *

There will always be a little tensing and clenching when it comes to someone getting a finger up their ass - getting anything up their ass, really. It's not necessarily a comfortable sensation, so Tony isn't bothered in the least by Peter's body's small unconscious protests. Besides, Peter's hole stops clenching and does relax as he works his finger in and out and lets Peter adjust to this first feeling.

Stretching can be methodical, it doesn't need to be a whole drawn out thing, but it can be. Tony knows how to go for the prostate, he knows how to rub and tease that little spot ruthlessly, but given how sensitive Peter seems to be, Tony's having doubts of how far he should or could go. 

That is, until Peter speaks up and Tony can't help but chuckle, amused and pleased. "Daddy's boy _likes_ having a finger up his ass, hmm?" Tony is smiling as he nuzzles against Peter's neck, breathing him in. Knowing that Peter _likes_ this already? Fuck yeah. His boy's a slut. 

"This isn't two or three fingers, baby, not even my dick yet." Tony's finger thrusts faster, loosening Peter up and the sounds of lube squelching adding to all of it. 

"You been waiting to get fucked by me for _years_, haven't you?"

* * *

Maybe it's being overdramatic, but there's a very real part of Peter that has no idea how he's going to survive this if just the prep-work feels like this. It's not good in a way that Peter has ever really experienced before. It's not familiar, like a hand on his dick, or lips wrapped around it, or the simple pleasure of kissing someone else. 

It's... more. Peter's sure that if Tony hadn't already _licked_ him there, this would have been even more overwhelming, but this still feels oddly good in a way he can't explain.

Not that anyone's asking him to. Tony's not making a fuss, but he _does_ pick up the pace after a bit, and Peter bites his lip to keep as quiet as he can, forgetting that they don't _need_ to be. Not here. Still, the careful thrust and drag of Tony's finger is enough to make Peter ache, to make him feel a little antsy.

But it's what Tony _says_ that makes Peter's muscles clench involuntarily. He lets out a low, bitten-back sound, stuttering and a little raw, and he presses back a little, seeking... _something_ as Tony murmurs filth in against the back of Peter's neck. And, really, he could protest, could lie, but it's so damn obvious by now. Why bother when the truth is so obvious?

"Yeah. Yeah, I have. You're like... fulfilling at _least_ ten different fantasies just with this alone," Peter admits with a breathless, slightly awkward laugh. "Is that-- that probably makes this really lame, right? You probably get that all the time. But it's still, um. Still true."

* * *

Tony has heard a lot of shit, a lot of fantasies - some with him and some less specific - but he's not interested in the people he's taken to bed in the past. Some of those fucks had been mind-blowing, but most of them had smeared together over the years. Alcohol and little sleep and occasionally other drugs have made most of Tony's life seem sometimes like a dream. 

But none of that matters when he has Peter here, receptive and keening into his touch. Peter is practically basking in Tony's finger thrusting into his channel and loosening him up with each pass. Tony's never wanted something to be long and drawn out while still having the dual desire to take action immediately. His dick aches to push its way inside Peter and fuck the kid properly, but they're still a few fingers away from that happening.

"Not thinking about anyone but you, baby," Tony soothes and it is the truth. Tony can't imagine thinking about anyone else. 

"Just you and me and your tight little ass and how bad you want it and how badly I want to give it to you-- deep breath, Pete." 

And Tony's middle finger joins in, pushing and stretching Peter further as two fingers slide into Peter's body. Tony's eyes slip shut as he marvels at the increased tightness around his digits. He doesn't begin slowly moving them until Peter seems relaxed enough to handle it.

* * *

Peter knows that he's going to be getting off on this for _months_ to come. Everything, from the way Tony's finger feels, thrusting into him, to what he _says_. And, god, yeah, maybe this is way too fast all at once and maybe there's a marked power imbalance, but hearing Tony sweet talk him is like... easily the best thing ever. 

Peter makes a soft sound; he _likes_ Tony calling him 'baby', and while the dirty talk does bring immediate heat to Peter's cheeks, it's that that actually gets to him more.

Tony's not comparing this to anything else. He's not bored, or disinterested. He's there and engaged, and that's... fuck, that's hot. So when Tony tells Peter to take a breath, he does, and this time he does what he can to stay relaxed. 

Still... the slow, steady press of Tony's second finger makes Peter's body clench down a few times as he slides it in. Peter tries to relax, tries to breathe slow and deep, but there's a definite stretch this time, a definite sting, though it's not too bad. It does ease him away from orgasm, though, and he thinks he's grateful for that. Still, Peter can't help the soft curse he lets out, or the way he reaches back to touch Tony's forearm without thinking. The extra connection - and illusion of control - helps.

"_God_, Mr. Stark," Peter grinds out on an exhale. Tony's fingers begin to thrust, and there's something intimate in the flex of his forearm. Peter shudders. "Keep--keep talking? It helps. I want this-- want _you_ \- so bad."

* * *

Okay, technically Tony shouldn't be inviting either one of them to think about what a very teenager Peter Parker wanted or didn't want with him, but it's just talk. Tony wouldn't have _done_ anything. Younger is nice and all, supple skin and usually a good sex drive, but experience often trumped that, and he's not looking to legally complicate his life. There is such a thing as _too young_ and under eighteen had been Tony's firm line of not crossing over.

Inexperience usually results in him having to go slow or be patient and maybe even coddle. That shit could be tedious, but with Peter, Tony isn't aggravated. Peter's body isn't fighting him and Peter isn't being a wuss about this (some people could be). Tony simply waits as Peter adjusts to the increase of a stretch due to two fingers.

And honestly? When Peter's hand reaches back to touch his arm, Tony smiles. He's got himself just the loveliest sweetheart, hasn't he? Tony shifts his head closer, kissing at Peter's hairline and then under his ear, all the while his two fingers continue to steadily thrust into Peter. 

"Not going anywhere," Tony murmurs. "I know how much you need this, how much you need Daddy to take care of you and give you his nice big dick." 

Tony's fingers then purposely curl and he rubs. He's fully expecting Peter to thrash, so his other arm works its way around to hold Peter still while Tony works on introducing Peter to these truly squirm-inducing sensations.

* * *

Hearing Tony _does_ help. Peter feels a little like he's more able to handle this when Tony's just talking to him. It gives him something else to focus on, adding to the intensity of touch and varied sensation. And, guiltily, it's hot. Hearing things he's only ever seen texted to him, much less hearing them in _Tony's voice_ is like a wet dream coming to life. Peter groans tightly, and wonders if it's lame that Tony promising that he's not going anywhere makes him feel just as hot as the dirty talk.

Really, Peter should have been aware that _something_ was coming, though. He feels Tony's free arm slide under him and lock around his chest, and the extra constriction feels nice and solid. But then Tony's fingers do-- do _something_, and Peter jerks with a sharp gasp as sensation races up his spine and out towards his dick. 

He manages to gasp out a soft, "wh-what--," and then it happens again, and suddenly Tony's arm holding him makes sense.

Peter honestly can't tell if it feels good at first. It's just a lot, but as he tenses and his body twitches under each pointed rub, and as his voice breaks on a few breathless curses, he distantly realizes his dick is flushed red and hard. It feels good, he decides, and Peter clutches at Tony's forearm, desperate for some sort of grounding.

"Tony, _Tony_, fuck," Peter chokes, his toes curling in the sheets. "God, that's what you meant, isn't it? Making me squirm. S'gotta be-- that's so-- god, fuck," he cuts off, leaning his head back almost on Tony's shoulder.

* * *

Tony could have kept things methodical, fingers thrusting in and out and scissoring every now and again to stretch Peter open for the main event. Peter will need to be able to take at least three of his fingers comfortably before Tony thinks about giving him the bonafide Tony Stark D. 

But what kind of mentor would he be if he didn't introduce Peter to the wonders of the prostate? A horrible one is the answer. So it makes sense to Tony to give Peter the full ride as it were. Given how sensitive and reactive Peter is, the arm holding the kid is a good idea. A great idea even, because Peter nearly bucks like a bronco at the pointed attention.

Peter clings to him, cursing and hole clenching so deliciously around his fingers in a way that only affirms that he's blowing Peter's mind. Good. That's how it _should_ be. Tony only relents when Peter babbles his praise. He leans forward and kisses at Peter's hairline as his fingers slide out to then rub lightly over a puffy hole.

"That's _exactly _what I was talking about," Tony confirms in a purr. His fingers slide back inside Peter, smoothly fucking in and out, still focused on keeping up with the intended goal of stretching Peter for his dick. 

"How you doin', baby? You still with me?"

* * *

Peter feels a little like he got hit by a car or something when that pointed pleasure eases away. He doesn't realize he's shaking a bit as he catches his breath, because there's basically nothing else in his mind except the after-shocks of that kind of sensitivity. Tony's arm around him feels like comfort now instead of containment. Peter gives up on his mild attempt to wet his lips then, because his breathing is still a little too quick. God, his whole body feels sensitive.

There's something really, impossibly erotic about the feeling of Tony's fingers stroking his hole. Peter has the feeling that it's praise, like someone petting a dog or something, but it's still settling and it still does help him come back down. 

Peter groans low in his throat, a thinner sound, and when Tony slowly presses his fingers back in, Peter shifts enough to spread his legs just a little. It's still sensitive, but it's good. He likes it.

"Ask me again in like five minutes," Peter mumbles back, a hint of unsteadiness and amusement both in his voice. He's there with Tony, connected, but he feels a little fuzzy after _that._ "God--... I think so? Yeah. It felt... like a lot. Good. Wasn't sure if I was coming or not for a second there. Fuck, how have I not been doing this _all_ along?"

* * *

Tony tries to remind himself that this is Peter's first time - first time getting fingered, first time with the prostate, first time with _him_ naked and all that good stuff. While it would be far too easy to get swept up in the pound of ravenous desire and hunger, Tony attempts to take a few metaphorical steps back and still check in with Peter. He may enjoy and want Peter Parker overwhelmed, but Tony is still learning the kid. Overwhelmed and overstimulated can reach a point of 'stop/bad' and Tony doesn't want that.

Peter takes him so well, legs spreading in accommodation and Tony is chuckling at Peter's genuine response. Tony's both amused that Peter hadn't known what was going on but also by the rhetorical question of why he hadn't been doing this before.

"You were waiting for me," Tony answers simply and his arm tightens around Peter's chest as his fingers fuck harder into Peter, the accompanying sound a pure delight. "Waiting for me to lick you open and finger you open and then fuck you open, right?"

* * *

It's really a rhetorical question, but Tony's response doesn't come as a surprise. It'd probably sound crazy to anyone else; Peter's sure that Ned would call him certifiable, but he kind of does feel the same way. Like this, his legs spread a bit, cock hard and aching, and Tony's warmth pressed up all along his back, it feels like this is what was supposed to happen. It's still a risk, and it's still a lot to take, but as Tony's fingers fuck into him harder, Peter grabs at his forearm tighter and groans, the sound breathless.

"God-- f-fuck, Mr. Stark," he says, barely a whisper. He feels oddly full like this in a way he's never experienced before. Peter shudders. "Yeah-- yeah, you're- you're absolutely right."

Peter bites at his lower lip and wonders absently if anyone will _know_ when he goes to rehearsal tomorrow. If there will be any signs, or marks left behind, or if he'll be walking differently. The thought sends a small flush of embarrassment through him, but it only makes him feel harder as Tony's fingers pump into him. 

"If I'm gonna-- If I'm close, should I tell you?" He asks, his voice a little breathless. "Because I don't want you to stop. Even if I come, just-- I want this. Okay?"

* * *

Maybe the dirty talk is problematic or even corny, but Tony doesn't care. It seems to work for Peter and isn't that what matters? Bedsides, who's to say that Peter hadn't been waiting for the cherry popping of a century to be done by him, right here, right now? Tony's proven himself rather possessive when it comes to Peter so that notion certainly appeals to him.

His baby boy clings to his arm as fingers fuck fast into a steadily loosening hole. Peter's question about coming again in relation to this _not_ stopping has Tony cursing under his breath. How many times would this kid get off tonight? Tony had thought two, that after the first one Peter'd be able to last longer - at least until the actual fucking - but maybe not. It's impressive that Peter is so into getting fingered, it makes Tony want to pull out some of his favorite vibrating ass toys and go to town on Peter.

"You don't want me to stop and I won't," Tony states simply. It is pretty simple to him. "I'll keep fingering you open until you're ready and then I'll fuck you, baby. And you're going to let me, right? Now, tell Daddy you'll let him." 

Tony's fingers stops their quick thrusts as he lets his ring finger join as three fingers then push into Peter. Tony kisses at Peter's shoulder, sucking and licking to provide a bit of distraction for this final stretch.

* * *

Peter asks the question because he's worried that might be an issue. He knows, logically, that him getting off isn't a bad thing, but it's not like he has any overt frame of reference, and when Tony had curled his fingers and held him firm, god. Peter's pretty sure he'd come painfully close, and even now, he's a little worried that if his dick brushes the pillow he's holding, he'll come without meaning to. He's that turned on. He's been wanting this for so long, and it's better than he could have ever hoped, because it's real.

So when Tony murmurs his soft, low reassurance, his voice hot in a way that makes Peter's dick ache, he nods jerkily and breathes out slow, trying to keep some level of control and not be a stereotypical teenager, but it's hard. Just hearing Tony talk is enough to make Peter's dick throb, and he shifts a little as two fingers slowly begin to become three. And yeah, that-- that's a lot. That should probably lessen his arousal.

It doesn't. Peter's breathing comes in a little quicker and he closes his eyes, doing his best to stay relaxed as Tony's fingers slowly press into him. 

"I'll... god, Tony, I'll let you," Peter says, his voice tight. Just hearing the pet name has wetness beading at the tip of Peter's dick. "I want-- fuck, I'm kinda... I'm kinda close. If you don't want me to-- ease up a bit," Peter warns, shifting a little to try and keep his dick from brushing against anything.

* * *

Tony's always been a sucker for dirty talk - both giving it _and_ receiving it. There's actually a fairly large psychological aspect to arousal and sometimes even orgasm. Peter's proven this to him repeatedly, with how sensitive he is, how quickly he's able to get off (seriously, the kid jizzed himself just by Tony taking both of their cocks in hand and jerking like, _once_).

Peter's body does give, stretching to accommodate three of Tony's greedy fingers. It's always so damn gratifying to feel that tightness gradually ease and allow him to push more. Tony holds his boy close, mouthing at whatever skin he can reach. _Fuck_, he's getting closer to the end, closer to finally being able to fuck his sweet boy and snatch that V-card right up.

A warning comes his way, for him to ease up a bit, but Tony doesn't pay it much attention. He may not slide his fingers in fast, but he's not gentle. Each thrust has intent and purpose. 

"We're so close," Tony murmurs against Peter's ear. "I told you I'm not going to stop, so if _you_ don't want to come, you pinch it off, baby boy."

* * *

God, it feels way too good. Even without Tony going for his prostate, it's still closeness and heat and sensation and intensity, and Peter's already feeling overwhelmed with the fact that he has this. He honestly doesn't know if he wants to come now. Well - okay, _yeah_, he wants to, but whether or not he _should_ is another matter entirely, but it's quickly becoming apparent that he isn't really getting a choice in the matter. 

Tony's fingers are relentless, thrusting careful but still harder, moving them, working them deep, and god, _god_, it's so damn much. Better than he could have hoped for, especially with Tony there, talking to him, murmuring into Peter's ear, promising Peter that he won't stop--

It's that thought - the memory of how Tony hadn't stopped when he'd come before - that does it. Peter doesn't even get a choice, though his free hand _does_ move down to his cock. Not even he knows whether it's to 'pinch it off' or not, though, because before he can decide, that first flood of pleasure crests and Peter draws in a sharp, choked breath and grabs hard at Tony's arm. 

His nails scratch over the skin, unthinking, desperate, and Peter presses back, rocking his hips hard as he reaches down to wrap a hand around his dick. 

He comes with a choked, almost shocked groan, muscles clenching down around Tony's fingers, and-- "Oh, oh _fuck_, that's-- Daddy, please--" 

It's immediately _much_ more intense, feeling Tony's fingers pumping into him as he spills over his fist.

* * *

Tony has Peter's permission to keep going. Peter desperately wants this - wants to be fucked - so Tony doesn't really care if Peter gets off now and has to live with the consequences of oversensitivity. It's not Tony's _intention_ to get Peter off, Tony's not _purposely_ going for Peter's prostate for example, but Peter is young and wired. Tony is the kid's wet dream and ultimate fantasy personified and given how charged this… dalliance has been, Tony gets it. 

It's a lot to take in but it's mutual. It's so fucking mutual. With Peter, everything is more intense and more demanding. It's like skirting near a dangerous edge, taking a corner too fast or juggling knives - whatever adrenaline freaks do. Peter's a bad decision wrapped up in the shiniest of packaging - a big red ribbon included - and Tony's the grabby kid at Christmas tearing at the wrapping paper, desperate to get to the present.

Tony doesn't know if Peter even tries to _not_ come, but Peter doesn't last. Tony winces slightly at the abrupt scratching at his arm, but he doesn't pull away and his three fingers don't stop, despite Peter jerking and his muscles clenching rhythmically. Tony doesn't think he'll ever grow tired of hearing, seeing, experiencing and causing Peter to fall apart. 

Peter's voice - higher and tight with desperation and pleasure is music to Tony's ears. Tony's fingers continue to plunge into Peter's twitching hole, determined to keep stretching Peter open. "I know, baby, you're such a slut for me," Tony murmurs as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against Peter's neck. ”Gonna fuck you so soon, been dying for it." That said, Tony curls his fingers once.

* * *

Tony doesn't stop, and it's perfect. Peter doesn't particularly _like_ oversensitivity - at least he doesn't think that he does - but Tony does exactly what he'd said he would and his fingers don't stop thrusting. It's so damn sensitive, so perfect, and Peter feels immediately wrung out and wired at the same time as sharp pleasure is only pushed harder by Tony's continued thrusting. 

Peter doesn't know how _anyone_ is going to compare to this. Because listening to Tony's rough, filthy praise, feeling him hold Peter closer as he pumps his fingers in still, sensitivity be damned? Peter feels dizzy with it, his tone sharper, voice a little broken as he squirms. Tony calls him a _slut_ and god, Peter's cheeks burn with the humiliation of it, but it feels good, too. Like this, he feels like one.

And when Tony's fingers curl, Peter jerks sharply in Tony's arms, a thin, higher whine escaping him as his cock drools another spurt of come out onto his fist and the sensitivity climbs. Peter begins to pull away, the sensitivity sharp, but he doesn't actually go anywhere. And as his orgasm fades into sharp aftershocks, even he's surprised to note that while his cock does soften a little, it doesn't soften completely.

"Tony, fuck, it's-- it's so much, god. Don't-" Peter wets his lips, shuddering. "Don't stop. Want you to fuck me. Want you to-- god. Would you kiss me?" 

It's an absent request, and Peter glances back as much as he can. He just needs... something. Something grounding.

* * *

Peter is temptation personified, sweet without being overly saccharine and sensual without even trying. Normally inexperienced partners are too meek or worse, overcompensating and the vibe is decidedly _off_. But Peter seems to be the exception here. Tony loves their vibe, it feels like a living, pulsating thing between them. It's entrancing, like the lick of heat from a flame, drawing him in closer and closer.

Before, it was just a taste, just a touch, just a kiss, but Tony's proven himself incapable of stopping. How could he when _more_ was so easily attainable? Just a few texts and Peter had jumped, practically an eager boyscout given the chance to prove himself. And Peter had been worried about this only being a show thing, but Tony knows better.

They'll burn out or he'll burn Peter. Those are the only inevitable outcomes here because happy endings are for the storybooks or mooks. Tony's been in the business long enough - been _himself_ long enough to know what he's capable of, and it's all insistence go-go-go until he spectacularly crashes. (He's due any time for another, the cycle repeats and repeats--).

But that crash is for later. Tony's too busy embracing hedonism, arm locked around Peter and not letting his boy squirm away despite the oversensitivity. Peter's babbled words have Tony chucking and he gives one last hard thrust before removing his fingers, wrist a little sore. He doesn't answer Peter, but he's leaning back, getting onto his knees as he manhandles Peter, turning the kid over onto his back. Tony surveys and smiles down at the mess of come and sweat on Peter. 

"You'll get a kiss when my dick is inside you," Tony says as he grabs at the lube and proceeds to slather his cock with the slick. 

There's condoms in the room, but he has no plan on using one. Peter makes him feel raw, so it's only fair…

* * *

That final thrust is so sensitive that it is actually painful, but Peter must be a bit of a freak or something - maybe the slut Tony had accused him of being? - because it doesn't turn him off. He likes it even as it makes him hiss and jerk, but Peter doesn't protest. Instead he's left breathless as Tony suddenly shifts back, and any of Peter's protests die as Tony pushes at him and rolls him onto his back, and it is... a lot.

Peter feels immediately exposed, his abdomen wet with come and sweat, his cock still half-hard, his eyes bright. The break is appreciated even as Tony guides Peter into the proper position, and Peter drinks in the sight of Tony as he shifts up onto his knees and reaches for the lube. And... fuck.

His cock. Peter doesn't mean to stare, but he can't help but drink in the sight of it, fighting back the small squirm of uncertainty that rises inside him. He wants it. He really does. Peter wants to feel it - to feel Tony - but god, his cock looks big and if fingers had felt that intense--

But no. He can do this. He _wants_ to do it. And while he does feel a small twist of disappointment when Tony denies him a kiss, Peter's pulse skips with the anticipation. Tony offers him a kiss once he's _earned_ it, and-- yeah, yeah, that's fair. Tony's been doing everything. This is the least that Peter can do. He swallows.

"When-- yeah, okay. Then you should- um. I mean, should I-- do you want me to get into a specific position, or...?" Peter trails off, because now that it's _happening_, he realizes he hasn't really given positioning much thought. "When I tried with the girl, she was-- you know. On her knees. Should I...?"

* * *

Your first time with a man you've idolized and fantasized about? Losing your virginity to a celebrity? With _Tony Stark_, ex singer of Vixen? Oh, Peter Parker is a very lucky boy indeed. Tony's pretty sure that there'd be numerous people rushing to take Peter's place if they could, and while Tony generally dislikes inexperience (which then correlates with virginity), he's anticipating this like a dog with a t-bone steak.

Still... there's a small part of Tony that thinks Peter deserves something sweeter, something slower, with a partner who's tender and who maybe even throws in some mushy feelings for good measure. But that's not him and he's always been upfront with Peter. Peter knew what he was signing up for and as far as Tony's concerned Peter's signed on the dotted fucking line.

Peter's eyes widen, blatantly checking out his dick and _yeah, that's right baby boy, that's going in you_. Tony shivers at the touch to his own aching cock, his fingers wet with lube and he strokes as Peter babbles typical Peter-babble. 

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, baby," Tony says as his hand pulls away. "Daddy'll take care of everything." 

Tony already has a very specific image of what he wants and Peter is pliant as Tony maneuvers himself in between Peter's spread thighs. He goes a step further, taking each one of Peter's legs and lifting them up over his shoulders, shifting Peter's hole closer to him in the process. Tony's hand comes to the base of his cock, holding it still as he crowds closer and then gazes down at Peter.

"While on your knees _is_ hot, I want to see all of you," Tony says, voice low and rough with arousal. He's almost shaking from the intensity, from the buildup, for _finally_ getting here. Tony's hips shift forward and the tip of his dick kisses Peter's swollen, waiting hole.

"Don't you fucking dare look away, Peter. You keep watching me, keep saying my name, so you'll always remember this... remember _me--_" And Tony isn't giving any warning as he forces his thick cockhead inside Peter.

* * *

Peter doesn't fight the position that Tony gets him into. He feels wired and boneless at the same time, his orgasm enabling him to relax a little more but his body still not sated in the way orgasm usually brings. It's crazy that he can still _want_ so much without being obviously close, and as Tony maneuvers him closer and hikes Peter's legs up onto his shoulders, Peter feels a frisson of lazy arousal because _this is happening_. 

His breathing quickens. Peter awkwardly bends his legs, hooking them over Tony's shoulders for a bit of support because when Tony reaches down between them to brace his cock, he takes his hand away from Peter's legs. It's good; it's powerfully arousing, and Peter goes quiet as Tony shifts closer and Peter feels the first press of Tony's cock to his hole.

It's all silken hardness and heat. Distantly - in the back of his mind - he remembers the word 'condom' - but then Tony is talking to him, low, his voice rough and _so_ damn hot, and Peter shudders, the thought slipping away. But when Tony gives him those commands - tells him _exactly_ what he wants, Peter feels the first twitch in his cock again, even if he does feel impossibly sensitive. Before he can say anything, there's suddenly a press of heat, a wide stretch, a spike of _actual_ pain that makes Peter hiss sharply - and then-- god. Fullness like nothing else.

Peter cries out, because it's all he _can_ do. Tony's dick is thicker than his fingers had been, and it hurts. He wants to close his eyes, wants to take some time to manage how fucking intense and perfect this feels, but he doesn't. He makes himself watch Tony even as his expression pinches, even as desperation washes over him. Peter whines, but despite how impossibly full he feels, he's _also_ dizzy with the knowledge that this is happening. Tony's dick is inside him. He's going to make _Tony_ come. Finally.

"_God_. Tony, oh my-- oh my _god_, fuck," Peter chokes out, sounding wrecked. He doesn't look away once.

* * *

Tony distantly remembers his first time taking a dick up his ass. He'd not been sober, he can't even remember if he'd been drunk or high or a mix (probably a mix). But he remembers the fumbling and rushed well, _everything_. It hadn't exactly been great - it _had_ even hurt, but it was intense and still kind of hot because all the bullshit had faded to the background (if only for a few minutes). 

Years later, Tony still doesn't do it often, but when he's feeling especially shitty or self-loathing? Yeah, Tony calls a professional up and the instructions are for it to hurt. Tony will stretches himself _just_ enough because he's still going to be the one in control.

But he doubts that Peter _wants_ it to hurt, so Tony had been more thorough in fingering. Even so, it's still a stretch and Peter cries out. It shouldn't sound hot to him, but it does. It's raw emotion, genuine expression, and it's Peter _still_ allowing him and it's Peter _not_ looking away. Daddy has such a good boy.

Tony doesn't look away either, mouth open as Peter's gripping tightness welcomes him. His hands come to hold onto Peter's shin as he stops once the tip is inside. Even that has Tony exhaling slowly. 

"Yeah, baby, hurts so good, doesn't it?" Tony growls and he turns his head to press a quick kiss to one of Peter's ankles (because he hadn't forgotten). 

"You're always gonna remember this, Pete," Tony continues as he presses in more, hardness inching its way deeper. Peter's tight channel is perfection, his body vibrating with tension and as much as Tony has the desire to just thrust all the way inside, he doesn't. He can show a little restraint in this. 

"One day you'll let someone else do this, but you'll always think about me - even if it's just for a second - and that's the way it should be, baby. Me always lingering, your body remembering the first time you let a man fuck you."

* * *

There's a very real part of Peter that thinks that if he hadn't just come twice, he'd have started to push back, to beg Tony to wait, to draw back, because this _does_ hurt. It's not a gentle stretch the way that Tony's fingers had been. It's a sharper bite, something that makes him feel impossibly full and pushed to his limit in a way that goes beyond the physical. Peter doesn't know how to describe it, the way that a physical feeling can make him feel _emotionally_ pushed to his limits, but this does. It's so damn much, so intense that it's all he can do to breathe.

Tony kisses his ankle and Peter distantly thinks that _that's_ the kiss he's going to get, but he can't focus on that for long. Not when Tony growls and praises him, not when Tony begins to slowly push deeper. Peter 

makes himself relax. Thankfully - god, thankfully - Tony isn't quick as he sinks in, giving Peter's body the time to adjust to the stretch and the intensity. As though he could ever adjust to how impossibly connected he feels, to how Tony's words almost feel as though they're lodging in his mind so deep that he'll never be able to get them out.

Peter's breaths are shallow as he struggles to adjust, but he doesn't break eye contact. He drinks in the sight of need and pleasure on Tony's face, and the knowledge that _he's_ doing that - making Tony feel good - has a thread of arousal breaking past the sting. And it's that thought, as well as Tony's low, visceral promise that Peter will _never_ forget that, that makes Peter shudder and groan, his back arching a little as he relaxes enough to press back against Tony's cock on his own. 

"Good," Peter finally manages after what feels like too long. He feels almost disconnected from himself, the intensity is so perfect. "I don't-- I don't _want_ to forget this. Forget you. God, you feel-- fuck, Tony, it's _so_ much. Please, I-- I don't even know what I want. Just _please_."

* * *

So many people went on and on about first times needing to be special and memorable. Given his open preferences and sexual proclivities, Tony's had a lot of firsts - first time fucking a woman, first time with a man, his first time getting fucked by a man, fist time having an orgy… None of them had necessarily been that special or great considering Tony had been mostly winging it. It's one of those cliches that society likes to perpetuate - the need for sex to involve love to _be_ meaningful. 

This will be meaningful for Peter because of _Tony's _identity and the kid is so damn into him that it's almost pathetic. _Almost_. Because Tony lives for Peter's adoration, for the obvious excitement and awe that Peter still holds toward him. Peter's sweetness, his habitual apologies, the stuttering? All oddly appealing. Physically Peter is also a treat - a nice tight little body, dark expressive eyes, totally a cute twink-next-door type.

And that twink actually pushes against him, hungry despite any discomfort or pain - a boy after his own heart. Tony's grin may be manic as Peter simply agrees with his assessment (threat?) that Peter isn't going to ever be able to forget this. Peter's body feels like a hot vice around his cock, drawing him in like a damn siren to a doomed ship. 

"I know, I know," Tony soothes after taking in a shuddering breath as he battles his own waning self-control in this. He's only half way inside his boy and it's not enough. Never could be enough. Peter can handle it. "I know what you want. You want my dick. You want _me_." 

And Tony groans as he moves again, pressing in until bottoms out, until his balls are against Peter and it's a feat that he doesn't come from just that. He's then leaning forward, Peter's legs bending with him and displaying that Peter's rather flexible. Good to know. Tony's hands grasp at the pillow behind Peter's head as he nuzzles into Peter's neck, messy kisses placed there as he rolls his hips.

"You like that, baby? Like how my dick fills you?"

* * *

Peter honestly doesn't know what he needs except for this to keep happening. He's sensitive, the burn of it still sharp inside of him, but the reality that he's doing this is what _really_ lingers. Yes, he feels over-sensitive, but his dick is still half-hard despite the burn and the sting, because this is _Tony_, and somehow that breaks through all discomfort in a way that not even Peter understands. 

Thankfully, once the head of Tony's dick is inside of him, the worst of the sting seems to be over. Peter's still breathing hard, still desperate, and maybe Tony knows, or maybe he'd just planned it all along, but the soft reassurance he offers is like a balm to Peter's nerves. He relaxes a little, still drinking in the sight of Tony above him, so when Tony presses forward - when his cock slides in _impossibly_ deep, deep enough that Peter swears he can't possibly take more until it happens - the glide honestly doesn't hurt.

Tony leans down, and Peter doesn't think to argue. He feels so damn full, and yeah, maybe basically being bent in half isn't comfortable, but it brings Tony closer, and that's what Peter wants. He reaches out without thinking, abandoning the pillow, and threads his fingers into Tony's hair with a low groan. And when Tony rolls his hips, Peter draws in a sharp breath because-- _oh_.

"God, that's-- I-I... yeah, Yeah, I think-- fuck, Tony," Peter hisses, and his head falls back on the pillow behind him. "I like it." And he does. Because the angle presses Tony's dick right against his prostate, and even if it's too sensitive, it still feels good. He can already feel his cock responding and it's so much and so damn good despite the sting.

* * *

Tony has an idea of how Peter feels - uncomfortably full, pushed to the limit, overwhelmed, intense, pinned, connected. It's a delicious mix of something that _maybe_ shouldn't be pleasurable but can be depending on the person and their mindset. Tony wonders if Peter had been clenching around nothing while he'd imagined this, while his hand had worked his cock with Tony's name silently mouthed out. 

That's a question for another time.

Peter's body steadily adjusts to the intrusion, the almost-painful clench starting to - finally - ease around Tony's cock. It's Peter reaching out, fingers grasping at Tony's hair that has Tony softly chuckling before kissing up Peter's sweaty neck. He likes these cute little actions that Peter has to work himself up to actually do.

"Yeah, you just hold onto Daddy," he murmurs roughly. "'m right here, on top of you, _in you_ and you feel so fucking amazing, baby. Got me so hard." 

Tony edges his hips back slightly before rocking in slowly. He's still trying to go slow, still trying to let Peter adjust, but it's damn difficult. 

"You feel how hard you make me? That's all you. Right now this dick is yours. All for you, Peter. Not gonna stop 'till I'm coming." 

And it's after that statement (threat?) that Tony searches out Peter's mouth and kisses him hard and fast as he begins to rock into Peter's body.

* * *

Peter honestly doesn't know how Tony is going to react to being grabbed at but he doesn't really have a say. He feels too wired, too intense, his senses all seeming to be on at once and a different sort of desperation settling inside of him. Peter wants to make _Tony_ feel good, wants to know that he can do it just as much as Tony can, and hearing the way that Tony chuckles, feeling the way he presses closer as he kisses up Peter's throat, Peter thinks he's into it too.

Which is only confirmed as Tony actually talks. It's almost like he's just reached a hand down to jerk Peter off with how immediately arousal cuts through him. Peter gasps shallowly, even breathes out a curse, and he shudders when Tony rolls his hips. It's the knowledge that Tony is hard because of _him_, the knowledge that Tony thinks he feels amazing that really does it for him, though. Peter feels his cock hardening, feels the intensity shifting into something much more visceral and _good_, but before he can focus too hard on it, Tony makes it better.

He kisses Peter like Peter had needed him to. It's not soft and chaste. It's rough and hard and Peter groans immediately, desperately, as his fingers tangle in Tony's hair. The glide of Tony's dick feels so damn intense, but it's the way that Tony kisses him that really pushes the moment beyond the norm. It's that that makes Peter's dick hard, that makes him kiss back, maybe a little sloppy, maybe a bit desperate, but real. He moans, tugging at Tony's hair with one hand as the other slides down Tony's back, unthinkingly scratching at his skin.

* * *

Tony's not certain if it's his words or the slow thrust of his hips that does it for Peter, but it's something. Because Peter shudders and kisses back desperately, yielding to Tony's hungry mouth. God, it feels good to be kissing Peter. Having the freedom and time to do this is such a rush, which only makes the prospect of having to hide and sneak around after this suck all the more.

Tony's always been a fan of passionate rough sex, so when Peter scratches at his back, he gives a genuine moan into the kiss. Peter doesn't scratch too hard, but it's still a flare of sharper sensation which Tony relishes in. Briefly he wonders how rough Peter could get if pushed, but now's not the time. He breaks the kiss with a nip to Peter's bottom lip. Tony wants to do more (story of his life), but he tries to remind himself that he can't leave any obvious marks. 

"Yeah, that's good, isn't it?" Tony's grinning as he pulls away and eases himself back up onto his knees. He doesn't particularly _want_ to move (as he likes Peter's scratching) but this will allow him the leverage to actually fuck Peter properly. 

Coming inside Peter is an issue of _when_ and not _if_, and Tony wants to make it count. So, his hands come to grasp onto Peter's thighs to help anchor himself. Tony's eyes intently gaze at Peter as his hips draw back to snap forward. His thrusts are harder now and he wants Peter to feel each one.

* * *

'Good' doesn't even begin to cover how Peter feels with Tony bending him double and kissing him like he's hungry for it. It's overwhelming in the best way, leaving Peter feeling wired and wrung out at the same time. He thinks, a little dazedly, that if Tony stayed where he was for a few minutes, Peter could come from that alone, but before Peter can even grasp that concept, Tony is drawing back with a grin that sends heat racing all through Peter even at the disappointment. 

God, Tony's deep. Just feeling him shift back is enough to make his cock move and Peter bites his lip as his breathing hitches. There's still a small bite of discomfort but it doesn't matter anymore; his cock is hard against his stomach, flushed against the drying come already there, but Peter doesn't look down at himself. He looks at Tony. He looks at the brightness in his eyes, the pleasure there, the wicked satisfaction, and he drinks it in because _he's_ doing that to Tony.

The first _real_ thrust makes Peter gasp, because that-- that is so much different from the gentle rolling thrusts. It's sharp and full and intense, and Peter's head falls back against the pillow. He breathes Tony's name like it's a curse, thighs shaking a bit, and fuck. This is real. This is Tony actually fucking him, and the knowledge sends a thrill through Peter.

"Oh my god," he breathes, shaky, the words all but punched out of him as his hands fall down to the sheets. 

Peter grips there, then up higher, in the pillow, then winds his fingers through his own hair, desperate to find _something_ to cling to. Peter shifts, angling his hips a bit, trying to help, and so when Tony's cock glances over his prostate, Peter's back arches and he lets out a breathless cry. _That_ is fucking amazing.

* * *

Without a condom is always better, no barrier between his dick and the hot insides of whoever Tony happens to be fucking. He'd never take this risk with a woman because he's not about to play with fire when it comes to helping create crotch goblins. He's not going to be money manhandled and tied down like that. He's seen enough scandals of _those_ kinds. No thanks.

Underneath him, Peter is beautiful, his oversensitive cock hard again, his body shaking from the exertion, his eyes locked onto Tony. And Tony can tell that Peter fucking loves what he sees - Tony equally fixated on Peter and taking what's his. Because, in this moment, Peter _is_ his. Peter's already given him permission and the way that Peter hisses out his name, Tony knows that Peter is completely into this.

Given the position, Peter doesn't really have much to hold onto. Tony watches as he fucks into his boy; he watches Peter's hands scramble to grasp onto the sheets, the pillow, then his own hair. When Peter moves, trying to meet his thrusts, it's obvious the angle is just right and Tony's hands smooth down Peter's legs in praise. 

"That's right, baby, feels so fucking amazing doesn't it?" 

Tony turns his head to kiss at Peter's shin. His hips drive forward, still not fast, but each thrust purposeful. Tony can feel that edge approaching and while it's disappointing to be nearing it so soon, Tony still chases after it. He can't help it. His skin slaps against Peter's, Peter's body so tight and hot and receptive. 

"Gonna fill your slutty ass… Tell Daddy you want his load," Tony growls as he hikes Peter up, adjusting the angle slightly as he quickens his thrusts.

* * *

The new angle is like liquid sensitivity shooting through Peter's veins. His world narrows in on just that feeling, on just Tony and how it feels to be bent double by him, to have Tony's cock driving into him so perfectly. It's still a little sore, still a little much, but Peter doesn't care. He feels drunk on this, on the visceral closeness, on Tony's heat and praise and each press of his lips. Tony asks him if it feels amazing and Peter manages a shaky nod, lips parted and skin flushed. 

Before this, Peter had never really thought about the _sounds_ of sex but he knows now that he's never going to be able to watch porn without thinking of this. Tony fucks into him and Peter groans desperately, the sound of skin slapping skin loud in the hotel room, the bed creaking a little, and Peter hopes there's no one next door or under them because it's got to be loud. But he can't worry about it for long because then Tony speaks and arousal all but shoots through him. Because the thought - the knowledge that Tony is going to - _god_. 

And then Tony yanks on Peter's hips, hiking him up higher, adjusting the angle, and Peter can't help the breathless cry that he lets out. It's _perfect_, each thrust hard and full, and god, way too much and not enough.

"I want it," Peter says, his voice so close to a choked sob that it's almost indistinguishable. Everything is too much, too intense, and it's all he can do to keep from closing his eyes. 

"God, I-- I want your load, give me-- _fuck_, Daddy, please, _please_," Peter pants, not paying attention anymore. He reaches down and wraps a hand around his oversensitive cock. Peter ignores the sting as he strokes, each thrust pushing him closer.

* * *

In the back of Tony's mind he's already trying to figure out the logistics of being able to do this again. To be able to have Peter naked and shaking from oversensitivity, sticky from multiple orgasms. To be able to hear Peter beg like a bitch in heat, to cause him to squirm. To see Peter's expression crumple into something desperate, to feel Peter from the inside, hot and grasping around his tongue, fingers and cock. Yeah, Tony wants Peter again and again and again.

'_One and done_' has often worked in the past, but Tony doesn't think that will be the case now. Because everything surrounding Peter is linked to _not enough_ and it should be maddening for Tony to be living in such a state, but is satiation really all it's cracked up to be or is it the _drive_ for more?

God, Tony's so fucking close. He could slow down, draw it out for maybe another fifteen or thirty seconds, but when Peter begs so perfectly, Tony knows it's a lost cause. He's going to go for it, going to fuck his baby and give Peter what he needs. 

Just a few harder thrusts should do it-- But no. He actually stills as soon as he notices Peter's hand on his dick. With a snort, Tony's quick to put a stop to that and pull Peter's hand away. 

"Easy there, tiger," Tony says roughly, not interested in Peter getting off again or immediately - he doesn't want Peter distracted. He's smiling as he lets Peter's legs down to come wrap around his hips instead. This time Tony is able to lean on Peter more comfortably and he pins Peter down with his chest, their faces close and Peter unable to jerk himself off. 

"Just me. Focus on me," Tony instructs, before his lips brush against Peter's. "Can you do that?"

* * *

Peter's close. A few more strokes, maybe, sensitivity be damned, and he's sure he could come again. He suspects that when he does, it'll be painfully sensitive, that the barest touch will have him cringing away, but he doesn't care. Everything else with Tony has been oversensitive and intense; why should orgasm be any different? 

Each thrust of Tony's hips sends a shock of pained-pleasure through Peter's body. The sound is obscene but he drinks it in, knowing that he'll never be able to forget this. Knowing that he doesn't want to. So Peter does the only thing he can do. He touches himself. He drifts on the almost mindless sensitivity, and he feels Tony's thrusts begin to change pace.

But before Peter can really get into it, Tony _stops_. 

The sudden lack of driving pleasure is almost enough to make him feel off-balance and Peter looks up sharply, breathing hard, confusion in his eyes. He's only just managed to breathe out a soft, "what?" when Tony takes his hand and pulls it away. 

Peter shivers. He doesn't argue as Tony readjusts him, but when Tony suddenly all but lays on top of him, his body touching Peter's everywhere, so damn close, Peter wraps his legs around Tony's hips.

Really, how is Peter supposed to argue? How is he supposed to resist Tony's instruction? Especially when he's close enough to kiss. Peter swallows and then nods, reaching up to wind his arms around Tony's shoulders instead. He's close enough now, and Peter shifts, rolling his hips under Tony's body just a bit.

"Yeah. I can--I can do that. Only on you," Peter promises, leaning up to steal a desperate kiss, nails sharp on Tony's back.

* * *

Tony has no doubt that Peter could stroke himself off for a third time, but this is about _Tony_ right now, thanks. This is the first time he's getting off _with_ Peter and he doesn't want the kid distracted and chasing after what will likely be a sensitive orgasm. Tony doesn't feel like sharing, not when he's been wanting to drill Peter for _weeks_ now.

Peter agrees and Tony kisses back, delighting in the feel of Peter's mouth against his and his body underneath. Tony groans as nails scratch down his back and that gets him going again. He humps back in with a single minded focus, glutes flexing at each thrust as Peter takes it amazingly.

"Yeah, baby-- almost there, Daddy's gonna fill that pretty hole and make you all mine."

And Tony does, tucking his face in next to Peter's as he takes what's his. He only lasts a few more thrusts and with a bitten off groan, Tony jerks as he shoots deep into Peter. It's a rush of pleasure and relief and Tony gasps. _Fucking finally._

But Tony doesn't stop. His thrusts are erratic for a few seconds before Tony forces himself to focus and continue. His dick is still hard so he might as well enjoy Peter for as long as possible. Tony's own come squishes around his cock and he gives a breathless laugh.

"So perfect, you're so fucking perfect, Peter." Tony kisses Peter after that, sloppy and wrung out, but, for the moment, sated.

* * *

It's fair. Peter's not about to complain. He's already gotten off twice, and as wired and ready to feel even _more_ as he is, when it comes down to feeling that pleasure himself or seeing Tony come? There's no contest. Peter bites his lip, feeling strung out and sensitive, but when he looks up at Tony, he's rapt with attention. He scratches at Tony's back and watches Tony react and - just for a second - Peter feels kind of powerful.

And then Tony's hips snap forward and he's lost in the moment again. Peter gasps shallowly, focusing on Tony, and he thinks he likes this position even more. Tony might not be able to thrust as hard, but he's close enough to watch, to feel the constricting press of his body, and to be able to kiss him the way that Peter's wanted to for _years_.

Peter groans, and he clutches at Tony's shoulders tighter, drinking in the feeling of each thrust. But what really gets him is that he can _feel_ Tony getting closer. Peter feels the tremble go through Tony's body, feels the desperation, the harder thrusts, and it stings, but when he hears Tony's groan and _feels_ the twitch of his cock, Peter shudders viscerally and clings tighter. He finally closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of wet heat and sensitivity and the deep, dizzying pleasure that comes with the knowledge that he's _finally_ made Tony come.

Peter expects Tony to stop, though. He knows how sensitive it feels to keep going after coming, so when Tony only pauses for a second before he keeps going, Peter draws in a sharper breath and all but melts into it, wonder mixing with desperation.

"Are you--f-fuck, Tony," Peter breathes, and when Tony kisses him, Peter throws himself into that, rolling his hips and shuddering at the feeling of what can only be come dripping from his hole.

* * *

It's a sharp edge of pleasure and sensitivity as Tony's hips drive forward and he continues shallowly fucking into Peter. He plans on getting every last ounce of pleasure from the perfect tight body beneath him. Tony revels in the aftershocks of his orgasm, blatantly enjoying the feel of Peter shuddering underneath and clinging to him.

His come squishes and Tony fucking loves the debauched aspect to it. God, he'd just popped Peter's cherry - with no condom on too. Tony is definitely going to be jerking off to this later - probably after he drops Peter off because this night will unfortunately be coming to an end sooner than later. 

Tony kisses Peter quiet and they fall into a rhythm of Peter meeting his thrusts while Tony pointedly ignores his own sensitivity. His cock softens a little but it's not a problem, not yet, so Tony enjoys the wet mess of Peter. When he breaks away from their kiss,Tony can't help but smile down at Peter as if in awe.

"Such a good boy for Daddy," Tony praises and he stops moving his hips. His fingers brush through Peter's sweaty hair as he gives Peter another chaste kiss. "So perfect," Tony repeats and he kisses Peter's mouth again and again.


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE BACK!

* * *

* * *

After dropping the kid off, Tony heads back to the hotel room. He treats himself to a well deserved drink and then strips down and lies where Peter had been less than an hour ago. The room smells like sex and sweat and Tony buries his head in the pillow that Peter's head had been on. He breathes deeply, reliving the whirlwind of a night - the touching, the kissing, the expanse of Peter's skin against him, fucking, nails scratching down his back, arms clinging to him... And, shit, it had started with him getting into his SUV and driving to fetch Peter for an impromptu late night booty call.

It screams _reckless_. It _is _reckless.

His muscles, pleasantly achy from exertion, enjoy the rest.

"Gettin' old," Tony comments to himself with a derisive chuckle. The room is empty and suddenly too quiet. He turns the TV on and eventually falls asleep to bad infomercials for products that likely only bring temporary relief.

The high never lasts and it's no different in his conquest of fucking Peter. Days later, he's pacing in his office, tension evident in his clenched jaw, fingers fidgeting by his sides, uncertainty roaring in his head. God, he'd just fucked Peter Parker, the barely legal sweet boy wonder of the show. And, despite feeling like shit, he wants to do it again. And again. And likely again.

One and done. Why can't it be one and done? He needs to fucking end this shit with Peter, but there's no way that Peter _wouldn't_ completely have a meltdown and Tony still wants Peter to win, right?

...But if Peter wins, that only adds more complication. Tony had claimed that it would be easier for them to sneak around, but that's not _exactly _true. Peter will have a lot of obligations after the show, between the publicity, working on a record and the tour... Tony wouldn't have unlimited access, but if Peter _lost_ the show, Tony could--

No, no. Peter deserves to win or at least not have Tony deliberately try and fuck anything up. Does he need to worry about a non-disclosure agreement? Should he call up Rhodey? Peter wouldn't--

What Tony decides to do is text a pretty little model that he's been interested in for a while and see if she's up for some fun later. Their schedules hadn't been lining up the past month, but it looks like tonight will be the night for that to change.

Just texting and making plans makes Tony feel better, like he's taking back some control and making things _happen_. It's better. This is better. Sprawled in his comfortable office chair, he's no longer pacing and no longer frantic.

He flirts with her the rest of the day and it's both familiar and comfortable. It's been a while since he's let loose and had a night out on the town. He deserves this. Tony's actually looking forward to it too - drinks, smokin' hot lady, nothing beats that.

Peter is Peter. It's nothing major. Not a problem. And when he's with Angie and her tongue is in his mouth, Tony can't remember why he'd been so up in arms earlier.

* * *

The days after the meet up in the hotel pass in a daze. Peter feels a little like he's on cloud nine, though he tries not to be too obvious about it. There's fewer people in the house now and so more people are paying him attention, and the last thing that Peter wants to do is make them ask questions.

They're down to five acts now, and life is just... good. Rehearsals go well, he and Tony still text, and while Peter is _definitely_ sore in the days that follow, it's a good soreness. It reminds him of how intense actually being with Tony had been, reminds him of how hot it had been, but also of how nice it had been to come down from that intensity, to bask in the feeling of Tony kissing and praising him.

He jerks off. A lot. To the memory of those kisses and to the memory of how amazing the sex had been. Peter honestly - maybe naively - thinks it's going well.

Until on morning, two days to the live performances, he gets an alert on his Twitter feed. He's tracking anything to do with his name, and to do with the show, and he's not expecting anything except someone commenting at him. But when he opens the app on his phone and sees the picture staring back at him, his heart sinks.

Tony. Wearing what he'd been wearing yesterday at rehearsal. The lighting is dim and he's clearly in a crowded place, but there's absolutely no mistaking the woman he has straddling his lap in an executive booth. There's no mistaking the hand he has buried in her hair, or the way he's kissing her. Peter stares, and only then does he notice the title of the tabloid article attached.

_'TONY STARK: COMPLETING THE SET?'_

A quick scan of it points out that the woman on Tony's lap is the last of a group of calendar models that he'd apparently slept with, but Peter only pays the article itself half attention. His focus is on the picture, on the look on Tony's face. Lazy, cool confidence. The same look he's given Peter before.

Peter doesn't know how long he stares for, but when he finally closes the app, it's only to pull up his messages. He needs... something. To understand, but from Tony. Not some sleazy tabloid.

* * *

* * *

With a sigh, Tony sprawls out on his bed before hitting the CALL button. He's pretty sure that Peter _is_ upset and he's not looking forward to hearing disappointment or feigned ok'ness either. But given that the next live show is coming up, Tony needs to smooth things over. He doesn't want this hanging over Peter and messing up his performance.

As soon as the call connects, Tony mentally peps himself up. He's used to this. "Hey, baby."

* * *

Peter stares down at his phone, slumped back in bed, a traitorous ache deep in his chest. It's really not Tony's fault. He'd assumed this was just a sex thing _before_, but after the past week or so... after Tony saying he was _bad_ for him, after Tony calling him perfect--

Peter shuts the thought down, because _his_ slip doesn't mean that this is Tony's fault. He swallows back an uncomfortable lump in his throat, draws in a deep breath, and when the phone rings, Peter answers it before he can talk himself out of it.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," Peter says. He thinks he sounds tired. But maybe not upset. He hopes he doesn't. "I'm--... look, I'm really sorry. I thought that'd be a big deal or something."

* * *

Damage control. Tony's good at this shit. Lots of experience, after all. As soon as Peter speaks, Tony's pretty sure the kid is just trying to latch onto the supposed concern of the photo versus the _implication_. And the implication is problem. That _this_ \- them doing stuff - means more than it really does.

It doesn't mean more and it can't and the sooner that Peter understands that, the better.

"Hey, hey you don't need to apologize," Tony says. "It's sweet of you to be concerned. I get that all of this shit is new for you."

* * *

Peter draws his phone away from his ear to swallow, because it's a little rough just hearing Tony's voice. He knows he has no reason to be upset; Tony doesn't owe him anything, and this is just... well. The business. Besides, Peter can't really imagine _actually_ dating Tony. They're nowhere near the same level.

"Yeah. I don't know. I was confused, then just... I wasn't sure if you'd need to know. Um... thanks for calling, though. I'm fine."

* * *

Had Peter been that virgin that thought sex meant love instead of fucking simply for enjoyment? It's a possibility. Tony had believed he'd not been giving mixed signals, nothing overly touchy-feely, but he doesn't remember if he'd slipped while actually fucking Peter or after… the night is a hot blur in his mind. He can't claim with any certainty that he hadn't crossed some lines.

It's fine. This is fine. "Of course you're fine," Tony begins. "You're such a good kid. Just the best. Anyone would be so fucking lucky to have you."

* * *

Which brings Peter right back to his actual problem. Because hearing that... God, what is he supposed to think? He frowns and settles back on his bed, the mattress creaking a little under him. His ass still aches a little but now the thought is kind of... not great.

But that doesn't actually matter because Peter hadn't thought that this was anything before. Nothing has changed except now his expectations are where they were before.

"I... Thanks, Mr. Stark. But... you know. Not really looking for anyone either. You're the only one who's had me so I guess you're the only one who gets a say anyway."

* * *

It's the truth. Tony may be a mess of a man, but he knows that Peter _is_ wonderful. Sweet, humble, cute, genuine, caring, quirky, not bad in the sack (although still understandably lacking in some confidence). Peter has a lot of appeal that most gals or guys would like in a partner.

But Tony Stark isn't most people. While he can very easily see and understand Peter's charm, he knows attraction and personality aren't enough, not in this day and age, and especially not with him.

"I meant _'have you'_ as in a committed relationship sense," Tony says offhandedly. "But that's not important. You're young, you'll find someone much better than me anyway. We might as well enjoy each other while we can, right?"

* * *

Peter goes quiet for a second, because he hadn't really caught what Tony had meant. Now that he hears it out loud, it makes sense. It still doesn't feel great, but bit by bit, he's readjusting to the idea of what Tony had actually meant. He'd started this out assuming it was just a sex thing and that hasn't changed. Peter still feels good that Tony had picked him even for a little while. And... yeah, the whole _girl_ thing still stings, but Tony's right. It's not like it can be Peter in public.

"Yeah. No, yeah, totally," Peter says, because he's trying to be okay with it. He'll get there. "Besides. You're still... you know. A judge. Maybe my boss someday. Conflict of interest and stuff."

* * *

Tony doesn't give an audible sigh of relief when Peter seems to get the picture, but it's a near thing. He nods empathically as Peter works it out - understanding that they could never be 'a thing' because of the obvious reasons of who Tony is in relation to Peter. That's the pre-packaged easily digestible answer.

"People want to fuck me, not date me," Tony laughs. "I'm pretty horrible at all of that stuff. Like, a train wreck."

* * *

Peter doesn't go on to say that just _sleeping_ with Tony would have been a conflict of interest in that case. He feels... bad, actually, but it's a bad of his own making. And if there's one thing that May has continually drilled into Peter's head, it's that it's not _his_ job to control how other people feel. She'd been talking about bullying and online hate at the time, but Peter thinks the matter still stands.

So he makes himself smile. Smiles come across in voices better than anything, and Peter's good at faking it.

"I dunno about that. Maybe long-term, but whisking someone away to a private hotel after like... _weeks_ of flirting isn't what I'd call 'horrible'. Maybe you're more of a 'fling' guy."

* * *

Doing anything behind closed doors is a conflict of interest. They both know it, but they both ignore it because it's fun and feels good. Welcome to being human - turning a blind eye to the shit you don't want to face in favor of having the goodies.

"A 'fling' guy, huh?" Tony considers it. Peter's not wrong. Tony has been known for sex-centric weekends away on yachts or in hotel rooms. The shit never lasted, but it was a great time. "So you had a pretty good time in my hotel room?"

Yeah, Tony would rather switch to this topic.

* * *

Peter doesn't really feel good about this topic, but when it comes down to it, he can still be an adult about it. It might feel crappy, but welcome to life. It's not the first time he's assumed something and it won't be the last. So, he closes his eyes, draws in a smaller breath, and then hums his agreement.

When it comes down to it, he prefers this topic of conversation too. It's easier.

"'Pretty good' is an understatement and you know it," he mumbles back, less awkward than usual, but still kind of new to this. "It was... really, really awesome."

* * *

Seeing how a large amount of their texts and interactions are sexual in nature, it's not a huge shock for their call to head in this direction. It's what's been established for them. It works. It's fun. Tony likes it.

Tony's lips pull into a grin at Peter's honesty, pleased and smug in equal measure. "Yep, can't claim otherwise, kid," Tony replies. "You were so great. Just the best, baby."

* * *

Peter sinks into the new topic, and if he can credit his disappointment with one thing, he doesn't feel as awkward right now. Usually talking to Tony leaves him tongue-tied and jittery, but he feels a little more sedate. Still... hearing Tony's voice, hearing his praise? That still makes Peter feel guiltily good.

"You were too. But, like... I know you know that. Pretty sure I couldn't stop saying that after. You like... broke my brain or something. With your dick." Peter pauses, then frowns. "Actually, that's a really weird mental image. Forget I said that."

* * *

Praise, flirting, sex-talk, reminiscing... All of this comes so natural to Tony. It's comfortable and safe and Tony's eyelids close as he settles, his nerves calming, former concerns about damage control melting away, being replaced by familiar fun.

Peter's rambling has Tony chuckling. "I'm definitely not forgetting that you said that," he teases unashamedly. "I like that mouth of yours, always so much to say, but I suppose that's your mind, right?" One of Tony's shoulders gives a small shrug. "Anyway, back to your mouth. I'd love it wrapped around my dick sometime."

* * *

And that brings Peter to another little observation. When Tony texts him this kind of thing, there's always a bit of a buffer. He sees the text, something inside him squirms, he takes a few seconds to center himself, and manages to find a response pretty easy.

_This_, though... this is different. Because despite how he feels, Peter is still impossibly turned on by Tony, even if the mental image of that tabloid makes him feel like crap. The very suggestion of Tony wanting Peter to suck him off has Peter drawing in a quick, soft breath that - were he texting - would have stayed hidden. Unlike this. He feels his face color.

"You'd... yeah? For real?" Peter clears his throat. "I hope you're not expecting much. I don't think I could make it as good as you do."

* * *

Text, while convenient, doesn't have the quicker back and forth possible. It also doesn't have sound. Cellphone resting comfortable on Tony's chest, he's treated to the sudden sharp inhale of breath from Peter and he likes it. He gets to hear Peter's excitement, his tone. A conversation is in real time (or at least should be), so neither one of them gets time to formulate a response.

It's thrilling.

"Well, they say practice makes perfect," Tony murmurs. "Besides, I'm sure your enthusiasm would more than make up for any shaky technical skill."

He's certain Peter just _trying_ would be a delight. Peter's pretty lips stretching around him, Peter's tongue licking and tasting him, Peter's throat convulsing... Mmm, nothing better than that.

* * *

Slowly, Peter looks over at the door to his room. He wets his lips, considering, and while he still doesn't feel the best, he can tell that Tony's at least interested in _this_ topic. And, really... this is still more than Peter had ever assumed he'd get. He's not going to complain that Tony's attracted to him.

It's mutual. He'd just... gotten caught up in the subtext, he guesses. But this - sex stuff? That's easy.

Peter stands as Tony speaks and he walks to his door, making a point to lock it just in case. Then he walks back to his bed and lays down, his phone close to his ear.

"So that's... you know. Something you'd be interested in?" Peter guesses. "Letting me, um. Practice? I don't--" He cuts himself off, then awkwardly adds, "I can't do the thing you do. Where you don't gag."

* * *

Peter doesn't respond immediately, but it's more than obvious what Peter is doing - getting up from the bed, walking to his door, checking the lock and then settling back down. Tony listens, his eyelids still shut and a pleased heady feeling suffusing into him. As much as he loves the actual in-person activities, there is always a perverse delight in the act of sexting or phone sex. It's fun and spontaneous and requires imagination.

"Oh, baby, that's okay. It'd actually feel so good if you _did_ gag," Tony murmurs and his hand comes down to rest on his growing erection, palm warm and familiar atop his boxers. "You think you'd trust Daddy with that?"

Because Tony's mind is fixating on holding Peter's head still and forcing his dick down Peter's throat, on how exquisite that'd feel to have Peter messily struggle to take it.

* * *

Peter thinks, distantly, that he knows that Tony is right. When Tony had gone down on him, it had been quick, messy, and distracting. Peter hadn't really been focusing on what Tony had been doing, more on how it felt. But he does remember how it had felt - how Tony's mouth had been wet and hot and really good, and he supposes that if he really thinks about it, he can imagine gagging feeling good.

The thought still makes him feel a little hot, a little embarrassed, because gagging really _isn't_ a pleasant experience. But laying like this, listening to Tony's voice, Peter can hear the edge of arousal there, and... fuck. Okay. Maybe he _is_ easy, because he can feel blood rushing south. He wets his lips.

"I... yeah? I-I think so, at least. I mean you'd... you'd still like. Let me breathe, and stuff. Right?"

* * *

This is easy for Tony, but it's always been easy for Tony - at least when he has good chemistry with the person. Right now that person is Peter and Peter and him have _phenomenal _fucking chemistry if he does say so.

Tony doesn't care to try and disguise anything, doesn't try and pretend that he's not totally into this. He's more than pleased to let Peter hear that he's aroused. Tony smiles at Peter's answer because Peter _isn't _saying no.

"A little struggle is okay," Tony replies easily. "But I'd let you breathe eventually." Because a few seconds of Peter gagging would be manageable and Tony know this from personal experience.

* * *

Peter's torn between imagining that and shying away from the thought. He's not really seen gagging in porn; he's only ever really gagged over medicine or when his toothbrush slips, so maybe it's not the best indicator. But... Peter's kind of getting to know Tony's voice now.

Tony sounds like he likes the idea. And, twisted as it might be, especially after everything, Peter can't help the little squirm of pleasure in his chest at the thought of doing something that Tony likes. Even if the phrase 'I'd let you breathe eventually' should be a massive red flag.

It's not.

"Then yeah," Peter says, squirming on his bed a bit to get comfortable. "If that's something you're into, then... I could do that. I want to, like... you know. Suck you off anyway. Or try," Peter adds awkwardly. "I mean, I've thought about it a lot."

* * *

Tony's not lying - he knows he'd push Peter a bit, but it wouldn't get dangerous. Some gagging - while uncomfortable - _is_ manageable. Tony may have a damn good gag reflex (from practice, he wasn't born with it), but even he can struggle sometimes. The point is to relax and not freak out over your throat convulsing and the difficulty in breathing. Could Peter do it? Only one way to find out.

Hearing Peter fidget and the confession that Peter has apparently been thinking about it a lot has Tony's dick hardening further under his hand.

"Thinking about it a lot," Tony echoes back, approval evident in his tone. "Baby wants to suck me off… mmm, that sounds doable." Tony's mind is already thinking of the logistics. While in the back of his car wouldn't be as comfortable for Peter, it's certainly the easiest opportunity right now.

* * *

Peter thinks that maybe that tone of voice shouldn't get to him the way it does, especially after a rough misunderstanding that morning, but he can't help it. Hearing Tony's voice warm with approval still makes him shiver, still makes his own jeans feel uncomfortably tight.

He could do it, is the thing. They could do it. Tony'd pinned him against a wall and all but forced him to come, so he knows it's possible. Granted... yeah, Peter knows he wouldn't be _that_ good, but there's got to be a place where he could try.

So hearing Tony agree makes Peter's breath hitch a bit. He swallows, nervous but still aroused, and he slides his hand down to press down over the front of his jeans.

"Yeah? You think... I mean. Is that something that could happen?"

* * *

It's far too easy for Tony to let the conversation flow in this particular direction. Why would he want to talk about the horrors of him dating and the possibility of Peter reading into things? He wouldn't. That shit is a headache in the making - no thanks.

This flirting and sexual conversation - fantasizing and likely getting off during or after? Much better. Like a well-loved bathrobe, this is familiar and comfortable between them. Tony's past guilt and stress over fucking Peter is nowhere in sight. It doesn't have a space to exist when he's actively engaged with the kid.

"I could make it happen," Tony replies casually. "Drive on over, hop into the back seat, let you have a go at it." Tony smiles as his palm presses against his growing erection. "I'm hard just thinking about you trying to take Daddy's dick."

* * *

Yeah, Peter _is_ that easy. He remembers Tony's dirty talk when they'd been in the hotel, remembers Tony practically growling his praise that Peter was easy, that he was a slut, and while the words still make something twist in his chest, they still kind of turn him on. Now, listening to the way that Tony's voice pitches low as he makes his suggestion, Peter feels his arousal spike. The _Daddy_ thing... god, it doesn't help.

Tony had been with someone else. Might have even fucked her. But... Tony's talking to _him_ now. It doesn't matter that it's not a _thing_ (it does) because Tony's still interested in him. That's what Peter's choosing to focus on.

Besides, hearing that Tony's hard because of him? That still does something to him. Peter wets his lips and rubs at his dick, his breath hitching as he lifts his hips.

"I'd--fuck, I'd try. I'm hard too, Mr. Stark. Would you... are you gonna do that? Let me try?"

* * *

Tony absolutely loves the fact that Peter is easy. Why wouldn't he? Nothin' wrong with that. Peter being receptive to him is a lovely ego boost. It's fucking hot that the kid gets breathy and fidgety so quick, that Tony's texted words or voice can get him hard in a snap.

Tony is singularly invested in this moment. Angie doesn't matter to him. The competition doesn't matter. What matters is Peter's breath catching and the sound of a hand rubbing against fabric. What matters is Peter desperately wanting to suck him (and even gag for him). What matters is that Peter is admitting his slutty desires.

"'Course baby, why wouldn't I let you try?" Tony asks. "That sweet mouth of yours? It's meant to be all over my dick, isn't it?"

* * *

It's easier to focus on the fact that he's hard. Somehow, it's always easier just admitting to himself that he really, _really_ wants Tony. Yeah, maybe it's not romantic, and maybe that's going to suck a little later on when he really lets himself think about it. But Tony's still choosing him right now. Tony still wants _his_ mouth, and keeps on talking sweet to _him_. Peter's going to focus on that.

Frankly, being hard makes it easier. It's easier to distract himself from feeling like crap when his dick is hard. And hearing Tony coax him further, Peter feels a small thrill flutter through his chest. He wets his lips, picturing it, and... fuck. Yeah. He wants that.

"God, yeah," Peter breathes, and - after a quick look at the door - he slides one of his hands into his jeans just to rub a little more directly. "But... but we can't do it now, can we? S'the morning. People might see your car."

* * *

"No, we shouldn't do it now," Tony reluctantly agrees. It's unfortunate, but even he has a small amount of common sense at times and driving over in broad daylight to do shit in the back of his SUV (even with tinted windows), is sheer idiocy.

And he's always had a thing for anticipation and rewards...

"If you do well this week - maybe it'll be your treat," he offers. "What do you think about that?"

_He _thinks that Peter would love a treat like that. Get a nice bow, tie it around his dick, viola!

* * *

It's not that Peter hadn't already known, but hearing it out loud still sends a small frisson of disappointment through him. He thinks he could have used the distraction, as ridiculous as that is. But he chooses to focus on what that actually means - if he does well, he'll be able to have another new experience with Tony.

So, though it feels like it's _way_ too far in the future, Peter swallows and then nods. His phone slips, reminding him that Tony's not really in the room, and he lifts his shoulder to catch it.

"I... think it sounds like an awesome idea. I'll-- I mean I always do the best I can, but I'll _really_ try."

* * *

Tony could suggest _tonight_, but why not tack on some extra incentive for Peter? It's external motivation! Bedsides, 'doing well' is entirely subjective and based on Tony's judgment.

But he has no doubt that Peter is going to do amazing. Tony has a pleased as punch smile on his face about this little plan. Anticipation is often delightful, after all.

"I'm sure you won't disappoint Daddy," Tony purrs and his hand rubs slowly along the line of his cock, squeezing his hardness appreciatively. "You need to get off right now, baby?" He's not against the idea, starting the day off with an orgasm is lovely.

* * *

Peter can wait. He wants to believe that he can wait for a few days. But the idea of needing to does make him want to ask if there's any other way they could do this. He's not crazy, though, and so when Tony all but purrs his answer, Peter wets his lips and settles back against the bed.

He should be able to wait, but there's something uncomfortable about the idea. He has Tony here, and he's _offering_, so why not...?

"Am I allowed?" Peter asks, because even if he is kind of new to this, he _has_ managed to figure out that Tony likes being in control. Peter likes it, anyway. "I'd like to, but... only if you want me to."

* * *

This isn't new - the jerking it while talking to each other. Not _all_ of their conversations go like this, but a great many of them have. It's certainly easier to text or call than get together, but apparently Tony's already making plans to see Peter _again_. No big surprise, really. There hadn't been enough time to get to everything.

Tony's practically giving Peter an educational opportunity here. Why wouldn't Tony go for it? Peter wants to. Tony's dick wants to. It's a win-win.

Now, when Peter asks if he's _allowed to_, Tony's cock throbs its blatant approval. Smart boy. "Yeah, I want you to touch that pretty cock of yours. Go ahead."

* * *

It's a bit of a risk right up until he hears the sound of Tony's voice. Only then does Peter let himself relax, because it feels oddly good to guess right. He feels a hotter flush slide through him at the clear praise in Tony's voice, and his breath hitches audibly at the phrase 'pretty cock'.

It is... not something he'd ever assumed he'd _want_ to hear, but it's really, really hot. Peter breathes out a soft, "yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Stark," and then his hand slides free of his jeans.

His door is locked, so Peter finally undoes the button and zipper on his jeans. It doesn't take him long to shimmy out of them, his boxers tenting almost obscenely before he lowers them too and reaches down, wrapping his hand around his dick with a low moan. It's better knowing that Tony can hear him.

"You're going to-- will you touch yourself too? Please?"

* * *

Tony doesn't know if Peter's lapse back into _'Mr. Stark'_ territory means anything but he decides not to overthink it. Tony still likes hearing it after all - a little show of respect is hot. He also likes hearing the sound of Peter undoing his jeans because that means Peter is going to touch himself here and now and _for him_.

Fabric shuffles - boxers - and then just the sweetest little moan is given which signals that Peter's hand has found his cock. Tony's face wears a dreamy, satisfied smile. He loves listening to expressions of pleasure when they involve him. Peter's question-prompt comes with a nice tacked on _please_ at the end.

"I could," Tony murmurs, licking his lips. He squeezes his cock and exhales slowly. "You wanna hear Daddy get off too?"

* * *

Peter knows that he could get off alone, that he could jerk himself off just fine if Tony told him to, but he's not sure if that's what he _wants_. He's not sure if he gets a say, though, so yeah, he asks. Asking won't hurt, and if it lets him hear Tony getting off too? Well that's just all the better, isn't it?

So when Tony offers that he _could_, Peter bites his lip and slides his thumb up, brushing carefully over his slit the way Tony had only a few days ago. Maybe he can't be _with_ Tony, but he knows what being with him feels like now. And Peter's preferred method of jacking off? Yeah. Completely different now.

"God, yeah," he breathes immediately, because there is no contest whatsoever. "Yeah, would you--please? Please, To--... Daddy? I'd really like to hear you. Makes it better to know it's not just me."

* * *

Where's the fun in giving in immediately? Missing. That's where. A little bit of a back and forth can be hot depending on the partner at least, and with Peter? Yeah, it's smokin' hot. It's always been arousing to talk with him and get the kid begging and worked up. A worked up Peter Parker is an absolute delight and Tony's looking forward to it. In his opinion, this is a great way to start off a day.

Peter doesn't disappoint him either. Tony's lips pull into a deeper pleased grin as Peter answers and says _Daddy_ just so sweetly. Tony's hand is quick to work out his cock from the fly of his boxers.

"How can I say no when you sound like that, baby boy?" Tony asks as his fingers wrap around himself and he strokes slowly with a groan. "Can't wait to feel your mouth on me."

* * *

Peter doesn't think he sounds like anything particularly special, in his opinion, but the way that Tony praises him makes him immediately second-guess that. He shivers, feeling heat prickle through him at the sound of Tony's groan, and god, if Tony feels anything like Peter feels, it's no wonder that this keeps on happening. Even now, weeks later, Peter's still amazed that Tony's picked _him_.

He'd picked a woman the other night, sure. But... Peter's not thinking about that. He shoves it away.

Instead, he shifts back on the bed until he's lying down, and with a lower, tighter moan, Peter hesitates, then lifts his hand to his lips. He spits into his palm, pulse skipping, and when he wraps his hand around himself again and strokes, he breathes shakily and rolls his hips, remembering how good Tony had felt only a few days ago.

"Can't-- can't wait to suck you. I've wanted to try for- god, for awhile. You felt so good when you did it for me. Wanna make you feel like that."

* * *

One would maybe think that jerking off would lose its appeal after decades of doing it, but nope. Tony knows himself - knows how to touch, how to do it quick or draw it out. It's fun and feels good and having company along for the ride? Nothing better than that. Knowing and hearing the evidence of Peter's involvement and interest adds spice.

Tony doesn't pull out all the stops, his hand moving lazily over himself, but his ears pick up on the sounds of Peter spitting into his hand before returning to it. Tony hums his approval and his stomach tenses at Peter's words.

"I'm sure you'll make it good, baby. I'll teach you." Makes sense to Tony... he _is _Peter's mentor after all.

* * *

There's something about that thought - Tony _teaching_ him how to make it feel good - that prickles along Peter's nerves like fire. He draws in a quicker breath, his cock aching, and he swipes precome from his tip with his thumb, stroking steadily, his hips working in small little jerks. Peter doesn't really like to be idle; it's better when he's thrusting, not just stroking himself.

"Yeah, please," he says, and means it. The idea of Tony teaching Peter how to suck him off is just... hot. Peter knows he probably won't be the best at it, and if Tony's promise had been any indication, it probably won't feel the best, but the thought of getting Tony off just with his mouth has Peter moaning, his phone sliding down to brush against his shoulder.

"Just-- just gimme some time to learn, I'll make it good. Promise."

* * *

Teaching... Tony's perhaps not known to be giving _like that_, but he thinks he's done a pretty bang-up job with this mentorship (minus the fucking his contestant bit - most people would probably say that that isn't ethical or something). But teaching Peter and giving him tips about blowjobs? Tony's down for that. Already Tony can postulate how eager Peter'd be. Peter would probably push himself and Tony thinks that yeah, Peter could handle a bit of gagging.

That _promise_? Tony's hand momentarily stills and he stretches his legs out along the bed, luxuriating in arousal. "Oh, Peter," Tony says lowly. "Daddy's going to teach that mouth to be sweet and slutty for him. Is that what you want?"

* * *

God. Peter feels a lance of arousal shoot through him at the tone of Tony's voice. He can't see him, but like this, Peter can picture him. He hears the way that Tony stretches out against his bed and Peter bites his lip, his cock drooling in his hand at the very thought of Tony actually doing that. Teaching... teaching his mouth to be sweet and slutty. God, who even _talks_ like that?

Tony Stark, that's who. Peter aches with arousal, his hips jerking up into the tighter tunnel of his fist with a softer, strained whine of desperation.

"Yeah-- yeah, that's what I want. _Fuck_, Tony. Wanna learn how you like it. Good-- good enough that you'll let me do it again."

* * *

Sweet and slutty. Sure, that kind of a contradictory statement, but Tony knows what he's into and he knows it's possible too. Besides, Peter has pulled it off wonderfully before, so Tony wants to assume that the same will be true in this. Instructing Peter on how to use his mouth on _his_ cock has Tony all kinds of hot and bothered.

Because he knows that Peter would try his best and be so willing. Just thinking about Peter on his knees, eyes wide and trusting... Fuck, it's so great. Then again, if it's in the back of his car, Peter won't really be able to be on his knees. Ah well, for another time (because apparently Peter is game for a lot of practice).

Tony can hear Peter getting into it, the shuffling of sheets and shit, he'd love to see it, love to watch at some point. Would Peter be into that? Of course Peter would be into it if it was _Tony_ watching. Tony's hand resumes stroking his cock as Peter answers him, sounding so affected already.

"I knew you'd want to be my little cock slut, baby," Tony praises and fuck, the idea that Peter's already thinking about learning how to do it 'good enough' so that he can do it _again_? Beyond hot.

* * *

Peter feels heat settling low in his stomach, feels his muscles tightening a little as his breathing picks up speed. There's no way that he should be this close already, but god, how can he not be when Tony keeps talking to him like that? He remembers some of what Tony had said to him the other night, remembers how Tony had growled low and whispered filth into his ear, and it's no different now.

The very thought of being Tony's 'little cock slut' is enough to make a rush of aroused embarrassment prickle through him. He bites harder at his lip, his hips jerking tellingly. It'd be better with lube, and _much_ better with Tony's hand, but Peter isn't going to get either of those things right now. So he chases how good it feels, his breath already a little hitched.

"God, Tony-- can't believe you keep- keep saying stuff like that," Peter breathes, but he doesn't sound offended. "I'm-- I'm getting close. Can I...?"

* * *

Tony hears the ragged, quicker breaths Peter takes and he assumes that the kid's close. He doesn't know if Peter's _always_ been easy, but Peter's been easy when Tony's been thrown into the mix (which of course Tony fucking loves). Unless he plans on edging Peter (which has an appeal), Tony doesn't mind if Peter gets off. He _wants_ Peter to get off thinking about himself sucking and getting good at giving head.

Tony's own hand strokes lazily over his cock, grip tight. He's in no rush to get to the end, but as Peter's breathy voice asks about _permission_ Tony's hips give a little upward thrust into his own hand.

"Yeah, baby, but if you get off, you have to keep touching yourself until I'm there too," Tony explains roughly. "You catch your come and smear it over that pretty cock of yours. Get nice and messy for Daddy."

* * *

Peter's always been sensitive, but it's not like he's ever had anyone to compare himself to. Not until Tony. And yeah, maybe a part of him _is_ a little embarrassed that he's so damn easy for Tony, but he can't really bring himself to complain that much. It's still _Tony Stark_ and this is still like... Peter's most unobtainable wet dreams come to life all at once.

Besides, there's no knowing how long this will last. If this is all he gets, he's going to make the most of it. And as Peter lifts his hips up and listens to Tony's rough answer, Peter feels his shiver all the way down his spine and he groans louder than he intends to.

Just the _thought_ is enough to push him over the edge, but he manages to hold on until Tony finishes talking, and only then does Peter curse low under his breath and turn his head away from the door. It has the accidental benefit of bringing his mouth closer to the microphone on his phone as he jerks his hips up and moves his hand quickly over his dick.

Peter's not surprised when he comes, but it does hit him hard enough to make his toes curl. He gasps out a frantic, "_fuck_, Tony, fuck," and just before he spills wet and hot over his hand, he cups it just enough to do as he'd been told. He catches his come and, shuddering, smears it over his cock and doesn't stop stroking.

* * *

Tony still doesn't care if Peter is easy and gets off quickly. That quick impending orgasm will still involve him and Peter _had_ asked for permission. Beyond hot and something Tony is really into. There's no official dynamics between them regarding this kind of behavior - Tony's never cared to define things anyway. He's always been much more the type to fly by the seat of his pants (which is much more fun).

Tony's own hand could move quicker. By now he's a pro in jerking it and getting to the end, but why rush? After a shuffle, it's obvious that Peter's mouth is closer to the microphone and Tony is treated to the lovely sound of Peter's gasped out cursing as he predictably shoots his load.

Tony's stomach tenses, the edge of orgasm closer, but it's not because of Peter getting off. No, it's what happens _after_ \- the sound of Peter's wet hand still stroking and doing exactly what Tony had told him to do. _That _gets Tony closer, gets his own hand moving faster.

"Such a good boy for me, Pete," Tony murmurs, his hips pushing off his mattress. He writhes a little against the sheets, enjoying the sensation against his skin. "I know it's sensitive, but you keep touching yourself, baby," Tony continues. "If you really want to be a good boy, you rub some of that come against that hole of yours."

* * *

Peter writhes out his orgasm because he can't quite keep himself contained otherwise. It feels so damn good, the relief, the mindless pleasure, the way that everything pinpoints down into that one perfect moment. He feels overwhelmed by it and everything in his body tells him that when the edge of pleasure begins to ease, he needs to stop moving his hand. But instead of doing that, Peter breathes hard, panting and catching his breath, and keeps jerking his cock.

He does stroke slower because just as quickly as the pleasure had happened, so too does the spike of sensitivity. It's low at first but as his dick becomes more and more sensitive, each mild touch is enough to make Peter want to twist away, to stop, but he doesn't. Tony can hear him and he can hear how much this affects Tony on the phone. Peter still makes a smaller, tighter sound of discomfort but doesn't stop.

And, when Tony's last little point hits, Peter feels his cheeks heat in a way that has nothing to do with orgasm or arousal. A note of embarrassment cuts through him, but he makes his decision quickly.

Peter shifts his hips and works his pants down, then draws his knees up. And, face still hot, he pauses to wet his fingers with his come and then turns, reaching back to press his come-wet fingers against his hole. Peter shudders, pressing his cheek to the pillow.

"I-- yeah. Yeah, I'm-- I am. God, Tony, I am," Peter breathes out, voice tight with sensitivity.

* * *

Tony may be nearing his orgasm, but his attention isn't on his own hand that moves up and down his cock. No, his focus is entirely on Peter, his ears straining to pick up each little sound, from the uncomfortable sensitivity to shifting and fabric being rustled down. It's obvious enough that Peter is pulling down his pants _and_ going to do what Tony has suggested - rubbing come onto his hole.

Beyond hot. Peter's confirmation brings with it a slash of arousal cutting sharply through Tony as he imagines Peter's sticky wet fingers searching out that puckered skin.

"Good," Tony breathes out, his eyelids fluttering shut in contentment. He continues fisting his cock, basking in the familiar climb of self-administered pleasure with a dash of external encouragement. That encouragement is Peter Parker, aka his addiction and Tony has no plans on going to rehab.

"Gettin' so slutty for Daddy," Tony growls. "I bet you like it, too."

* * *

He does. God help him, he really does. Peter feels his face burn even as the sensitivity only climbs higher. He bites his lip to bite back another, softer sound but he doesn't think he does a good job at it as he keeps stroking his own dick. His come is already getting a little tacky but it doesn't mean that it makes the sensation any less intense. If anything, it makes it worse, and Peter wonders absently if he could come again like this, if he tried hard enough.

If Tony were there, he probably could. He'd proven that the other night. But the knowledge that Tony likes hearing him like this is enough to make Peter want to stay exactly where he is, to keep doing what Tony had told him to.

He squirms on the bed, his breathing a little harder, and as he rubs his come-slick fingers over his hole, he focuses on Tony, on the sounds of _his_ pleasure. Peter feels kind of greedy for those.

"I do," Peter breathes, voice unsteady. "I really, _really_ do. So-- so long as it's for you. _God_, Daddy." And this time, it's almost not embarrassing to say. Almost.

* * *

Peter _is_ an addiction because as much as Tony has already indulged, it's never enough. How could it possibly be? Peter is sweet and sexy personified, so expressive and eager to please him in all things, and Tony fucking loves it. The other night at the hotel, Tony had tried to do as much as they possibly could but…

Even a few hours hadn't been enough. Because being rushed and having a time constraint just sucks, especially for someone like Tony who rather enjoys being spontaneous and impulsive. But apparently Peter is worth it because Tony is still doing this, still going to do it too. Maybe shit will change after the show (sure, he'd told Peter that _they'd_ continue after this, but who really knows).

Hearing Peter fidget and become messier because of him is just too damn enjoyable. That enjoyment only grows when Peter fully takes to calling him _Daddy _\- at least, more than he ever has before. Give Tony time, he'll have his boy nice and trained...

Tony groans, his hand speeding up. He imagines Peter strung out on his bed, hands busy, messy with come and sweat, sensitive but being such a good boy for Daddy.

"Yeah, baby, 'm close."

And Tony lets himself do what's necessary to push him over the edge, his hand twisting just to add some extra sensation. It's only a few more strokes until Tony is coming with a hiss, body shaking through the familiar throes of orgasm.

* * *

Peter's whole body feels a bit painful with sensitivity but it's already starting to feel a bit good again. He thinks that has more to do with Tony, though, with Tony's praise and encouragement, with his instruction. Peter shakes as he listens, his eyes closed as he drinks in the sound of every single damn thing Tony does over the phone. Every rustle of fabric, every low breath... it's all like an explosion for his senses and it keeps Peter right there, between oversensitivity and pleasure, and it's great.

But nothing is as good as the way that Tony's voice goes all tight. Knowing that Tony is close makes Peter ache, but actually _hearing_ the way that his voice suddenly gets tighter, his breathing roughens, and the bed starts to creak a little under him? That's more than enough. Peter bites his lip, and when Tony suddenly lets out a sharper hiss, Peter feels a shudder tear through him.

He listens greedily as Tony comes. It's mostly quiet but Peter can hear enough. He keeps stroking himself, keeps touching until he can't hear Tony anymore, and only then does Peter stop, his bangs sticking wetly to his forehead, his own breathing rougher with exhaustion.

"Did you--... you did, right? I thought I heard you. God, you sound so good."

* * *

As his orgasm crashes over him, Tony thinks about Peter. He thinks about Peter's messy, sticky fingers. He wonders if Peter's touching his sensitive spent dick _and_ his hole - the kid has two two hands, might as well go all out... Either way, they're lovely thoughts to accompany his own release.

Given what Tony's witnessed, Peter could probably go again and it's tempting to urge the kid to do that, but for now, Tony just breathes deeply through the tremors of pleasure, his hand coated with his own come. Smiling, Tony listens as Peter practically gushes about him afterward. Given that Peter almost doubts that Tony _did _come, it's pretty cute.

"Of course I sound good," Tony replies lazily, pulling his hand away. He exhales slowly, relishing in the hazy bliss of a good orgasm as it settles over him.

Right now, he's not even thinking about Peter's earlier texts and why the phone call had begun. Everything feels good. Everything's fine and the way it should be.


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update, update~ read all about it...

* * *

* * *

**[Three Days Later, After Rehearsal]**

Peter's not actually okay with the whole tabloid thing, but with the promise of what might happen after the live performance, and with Tony still proving that he's into Peter at least in some way, he sets it aside. He doesn't really get over it, but it does get easier. Honestly, he'd assumed that this whole thing had been physical from the start; he'd just had a blip of... something. Some sort of belief that maybe...

But it's fine. He still texts Tony and Tony still texts back, and the competition continues. They still rehearse, Tony still puts him through his paces, and things get back to normal. And, as the next few days of rehearsal pass, Peter finds that he's actually feeling this song, that for some reason his anxiety about the competition seems to be a bit less.

If only for that week, he's smiling more, and while he doesn't know what to do about the whole Tony thing, he genuinely finds himself enjoying the time with Wanda, and the rehearsals with Tony.

It's after one such rehearsal, after the camera men have filed out, that Peter collapses back onto the sofa in his rehearsal room with a bottle of water and downs a good half of the thing in one go. He feels... good. Light. Happy. Music has always helped.

"This is gonna be _really_ awesome," he says, even if he is expecting Tony to leave.

* * *

Tony doesn't _have_ to stay. He usually doesn't. They've filmed their blurb and the others are already filing out of the room. He knows some of the crew are going out for a smoke and Tony sometimes joins them. He's always tried to be friendly with crew (can't be an asshole _all_ the time).

But today, for whatever reason, Tony waves the crew off and sticks around. He's looking at his phone, going through his notifications when Peter decides to give his enthusiastic comment. Tony's eyes flick over to the kid who's sprawled out on the sofa. No harm in staying for a few more minutes with Peter.

"Of course it's going to be awesome, it's you," Tony says easily and he meanders over. He motions for Peter to scooch over to allow him room and Tony then joins Peter on the couch.

"This song doin' it for you, huh? I could tell."

* * *

"I _love_ it," Peter says immediately, shifting to the side without really noticing he's done it, but it doesn't take him long to readjust. Tony takes a seat next to him, and that's probably proof that Peter's flying as high on excitement as he is, because - if just for once - his nerves don't really spike up that much higher. Instead he half-turns to face Tony, smiling at him like he's not _Tony Stark_.

"I don't know what it is; there's just something... I don't know - kinda fluid about it? The bridge has those riffs and hitting them is just _super_ cool. Reminds me of, um--" Peter breaks off, thoughtful, and snaps his fingers a few times as he goes back through his mental list of _Vixen's_ songs. "--of 'In The Heights'? When you did that more ballad-style for a few songs."

* * *

He _can_ tell that Peter's all gung-ho and excited about this current song, but it's honestly endearing. It's good that Peter's into it. His performance will likely do better because of it and... Well, Tony hasn't forgotten about their little deal. If Peter makes it through, Peter gets to suck him off. Maybe it should strike Tony as fucking strange that giving _him_ a blowjob apparently is some sort of reward, but... whatever.

Peter's beaming as he races off about the fluidity of the song. The snaps of his fingers has Tony's eyebrows raising, but he won't lie: he _is_ charmed by Peter drawing the comparison to one of Vixen's older songs. Tony gives an approving nod as he crosses a leg and shifts to face Peter.

"Mm, I gotcha," Tony answers. "You've got a good voice for this type of song. You'll melt _all_ the hearts." He winks.

* * *

Peter doesn't necessarily beam, but it's a near thing as he sits there, facing Tony. Talking about music has always been a passion of his, and there's something really great about having someone who Peter had looked up to almost all of his teenage years validating the fact _that_ he loves music. Hell, just hearing Tony's assessment of his voice is enough to have Peter flushing a little with pride. He smiles and leans back against the armrest of the sofa, looking quietly pleased and proud of himself.

"I've been, like... so caught up in _sounding_ good so far, you know? I've been letting the pressure kind of get to be, because there's a _lot_ riding on this. Just... I guess I kinda stopped remembering to have fun with it for a bit, but this song's just making it easier to remember why I love doing this stuff," Peter says happily.

* * *

The light in Peter's eyes is... Tony doesn't know for certain. He understands the excitement and eagerness, but Peter exudes more than that. It's something almost charismatic and alive. Tony's met a lot of jaded people in the business - hell, he's probably one of those jaded people - so this is refreshing.

_Joy._ Yeah, maybe that's the word. Peter seems joyful, and Tony smiles because why not? Why shouldn't Peter be joyful chasing after his dreams and having this kind of opportunity? Tony makes a thoughtful sound, wiggling a bit to settle more into the couch. He crosses his arms and leans his head back against the cushion.

"You're pretty cute when you're all chipper," Tony teases. "But I'm glad you're able to reconnect to the fun again."

* * *

Just like that, something flickers behind Peter's eyes. He looks almost embarrassed for a second, because immediately he wonders just how lame he's coming across here. He wonders if maybe _cute_ isn't something that Tony wants, because 'cute' doesn't end in sex, and it's briefly like a stark reminder that Peter's kind of being a kid here.

But then Tony goes on, and while Peter isn't _positive_, he thinks... maybe Tony had been teasing. Maybe Tony _is_ glad that he's been able to reconnect to the fun. Peter looks at him, gaze quick and assessing, and when he thinks he's right, he allows himself to relax again, though his smile is a little more sheepish than it had been before.

"Sorry-- if, you know. Cute is kinda lame or something. S'just-- you know. A nice feeling? Just this thing the music does - like... it just feels right? Does that make sense?" Peter lifts his eyebrows hopefully. "Does that ever happen to you?"

* * *

Tony honestly doesn't mean anything by the cute comment. It's not loaded. It doesn't hold any real judgment either. Peter being cute certainly isn't anything new. Watching Peter's YouTube videos while going over the applications for the fan choice vote, Tony had thought the same thing back then. Peter and cute can't exactly be separated and Tony's fine with that.

But he gets why Peter may not be thrilled with the label or his comment. From Peter's expression and stupid apology, it's obvious that the kid is worried or thinking too much about it. Given Peter's age, Peter is all set to prove that he's no longer a child. Cute isn't exactly what most most young adult males are going for. But Peter powers on and Tony lifts his head up to look over at him. It's been a while since he's really talked about his own feelings relation to music.

"Sure, it does, baby," Tony says casually. "When it's right, it's right. It just clicks." He snaps his fingers for emphasis. "And between us, _cute_ is more than fine with me."

* * *

Peter feels himself relax more at Tony's reassurance, both that he understands Peter's excitement over the music, and that 'cute' apparently isn't a bad word as far as he's concerned. It's hard to tell some days, and being caught in full-on geek mode had kind of swept Peter away for a second. Knowing that Tony hadn't been making fun of him is enough to get Peter to relax, though. Just like that, the sheepishness bleeds back out of him and his smile brightens a bit more.

"Thanks. I can... I mean, _obviously_ you know, but I can get like... over-excited about stuff pretty easily and I forget how I'm coming across." Peter shrugs one shoulder, but that's as far as it goes. He looks at Tony instead, because despite the little blip, he _is_ still curious. He hasn't actually talked to Tony about music all that much.

"Did you ever write a song that did that for you? Clicked, I mean. I mean, I can probably guess a few of them, but just like... something you _really_ liked?"

* * *

It's actually not bad to witness Peter's excitement and passion toward his singing and music in general. Sure, maybe it's a little dorky, but given that Peter is genuine and not actually _overdoing_ it, Tony doesn't mind. Why shouldn't Peter enjoy what he's doing and hoping to be successful in? While there's a ton of contributing factors that add up to success, passion definitely helps.

When the question is posed to him, Tony gets a thoughtful expression on his face. He straightens up and turns to Peter to face him. It feels like a conversation that he should be paying more attention to.

"Hmm..." While he is curious about what Peter might pick out, there's no harm in giving a few away himself. "_Shrike_ was one that I liked from my Vixen days. As for my solo work..." There's any number that he could pick from, but Tony decides to go for a few obscure songs that never actually became a hit. "_Aletheia_ and _Everywhere and Everywhen_."

He gives Peter a prompting look, curious if Peter knows the last two he's mentioned.

* * *

Peter can't help but be curious. It's one thing to know that Tony understands being passionate about something, especially music, but it's quite another to actually be able to ask Tony for real. Peter's always suspected a few songs, and this might be him going full fan-mode, but hey... he feels good, Tony's his mentor, they're-- well, they're not together, but they're fucking. Sometimes. Peter kind of feels like now is the best chance he'll ever have to ask.

And the answers that Tony gives are enough to make Peter brighten immediately. He doesn't really catch Tony's prompting look, because he's already full-tilt into it, his smile wider and excited.

"I knew it. Especially _Everywhere and Everywhen_. You always used to get this like... tone in your voice when you sang it. Kinda stronger, fuller. Like you were feeling it. Along the bridge--" Peter trails off, then taps his fingers to an imaginary beat in his head and sings:

"Dark out now, sinner, pour me a drink.

Taste of midnight, let me sink

Into the calm; teetering on the edge--"

Peter trails off and smiles, and quickly adds, "and you just segue right into the chorus and I swear, I could always _feel_ that, you know?"

* * *

While most of their interactions or longer conversations have been sexual in nature, this isn't exactly bad. It's different, a change of pace, but not bad. Hearing and witnessing Peter's genuine excitement is like a breath of fresh air. Peter is still hopeful and optimistic - the kid hasn't been crushed or weighed down by the industry and Tony likes it.

Peter seems to like his song choices, visibly brightening and Tony can't help but smile as Peter launches into this next excited ramble. Tony's not surprised that Peter suspected his choices and he's not thinking that Peter is trying to suck up either. Peter's never come across as insincere. Tony doesn't even know if the kid could manage it.

He's actually treated to a little private show of Peter singing a few of his lines, satisfaction racing through Tony. And Peter sounds damn _good_ singing his words too (of course Tony's biased). Tony's grinning by the time Peter finishes it. He gives a small little clap.

"Nothing more flattering than hearing my songs done right," Tony replies. "I liked that slow acoustic arrangement of Night Terror that you did. Completely different tone when slowed down."

* * *

Peter tries not to be super obvious, but just hearing Tony clap and seeing the grin on his lips when Peter finishes is enough to make something warm knot up in his chest. It's not like he's not used to Tony's praise, at least on stage, but there's something really different about hearing it when the cameras aren't rolling, and when they're alone, by themselves. It sends a wave of warm satisfaction all the way through him, and Peter's smile is much smaller and much more genuine when Tony adds that he'd sung the song _properly_.

Yeah, cross that one off his sixteen-year-old bucket list. Peter's pretty sure he can die happy after that.

"Thanks, Tony," Peter says, his voice a little smaller, but also much more pleased. He can't help but beam a little. "And yeah, every time you go acoustic, it just changes the tone of the song. Not that it's not _awesome_ when you go rock it out, 'cuz it is, but like... you inject a lot of feeling into your acoustic covers. And what good is music if it doesn't make you feel something?"

* * *

Peter may try not to be obvious, but he fails pretty hard at it. But that's something that Tony actually likes. He likes that Peter is an open book, that the kid is genuine and excitable and optimistic and all that cheesy stuff. Of course, that means that their little tryst is likely not a good idea, but Peter's kept it under wraps thus far.

It's fine. They'll be fine. Peter will win, get signed, get swept up in the business and Tony Stark won't be as big of a thing. Tony will be old news - as he should be.

But for now, Tony can't help but give his own smile in return, a little warmer than usual. "Right you are, you little poet."

Tony wishes he wasn't so jaded, that he could offer some bullshit insight about art and feelings... but he's got nothing right now. _Nothing_. And that realization is disconcerting.

Instead, he glances over his shoulder - the coast is clear and they're out of view of the door--

"C'mere and give Daddy a sweet little kiss," Tony says softly, a playful gleam in his eye. He can do this at least.

* * *

Peter's pretty sure he'll go to bed thinking about the smile that Tony gives him then, because even if Peter's not a mind reader, he knows what 'normal' is, and that... that's not normal. Tony doesn't smile at him like that. It's warm and almost fond, and it makes Peter feel _good_. It makes something warm settle in Peter's chest, makes him feel a little floaty if he's being honest, but god, he thinks he'd do really crazy things if he could just find ways to make Tony smile at him like that.

Which is why it's _almost_ jarring to hear the word 'Daddy' between them. It's... weird, in a sense, the way that something sinks in Peter's chest at the same time that his pulse skips in anticipation. He hasn't really forgotten the whole... tabloid thing, and it still sucks, but hearing Tony ask for a _kiss_ still makes him feel stupidly giddy.

"Oh. I can... yeah, I can do that."

Peter wets his lips and glances around quickly, needing to check for himself. But when he affirms that the coast is clear, he offers Tony a small smile and then shifts in closer. Peter sets a hand on Tony's thigh and leans over, and when he presses a kiss to Tony's lips, it actually _is_ sweet, slow and chaste. It feels right, given the conversation.

* * *

Tony may be a lot of things, but he isn't delusional. For example, Peter deserves an actual conversation right now. This Daddy bravado shit that Tony's suddenly turning on is out of nowhere. Peter had been opening up to him and excitedly talking about his dreams or the joy of singing or whatever and the best Tony could do is mention a few of his songs that resonated with him. That's as much as he could really share. It makes him wonder how long it's been since he hasn't freely bullshitted but been himself.

Tony thinks that Peter might actually be bothered by him changing the direction of things, but nah. Peter perks up and a Tony smiles at the spark of a thrill that's clearly present on Peter's face. Tony waits, corner of his mouth turned upright in a small grin as Peter peps himself up and has to make sure no one is around for himself.

The kiss is sweet like a lollipop and Tony's hand comes to cover Peter's on his thigh. Tony considers sliding Peter's hands upward and over his cock (would be fun, it's not hard now, but that could easily change).

He doesn't. Instead, he squeezes Peter's hand as Peter pulls away. After glancing down at his watch, Tony makes a decision.

"You have about an hour or so before they herd the lot of you up and then drive you back, so come on." To save on costs, the contestant are driven to and from rehearsals together and expected to wait until everyone is done. Peter had been in the middle of the bunch soTony figures they have at least an hour before someone comes to round Peter up.

Tony stands and regards the kid. "Unless you want to bum around here…?"

* * *

Peter is kind of disappointed at the deflection, but if Tony had had to deflect, he's pleased with the outcome, at least. Yeah, talking to Tony for real had been nice, and Peter kind of wants to do it again, but kissing is nice too. Peter's still way into Tony despite everything, but even as Tony's hand comes down to rest over his own and squeeze, he knows that this isn't a real thing. Which is fine. Kind of. Mostly.

Peter's going to pretend it is until it is.

Besides, the kiss is nice. It's sweet and fills in the gap that the conversation had left out. So when Peter leans back with a smile, it's genuine. Tony doesn't look disappointed, or like Peter had fucked up, so that's something.

Still... Peter's not actually expecting Tony to suggest anything, especially when he's got not idea what Tony's hinting at. Peter blinks and his first thought is that Tony wants to go somewhere and fool around. He's not actually going to complain about that; he's not an idiot. Peter hastens to stand up too, and he follows Tony off down a hallway when Tony beckons him to.

Peter's expecting some sort of abandoned room, or a bathroom or something. So when Tony leads them down a side-hallway that Peter's never been down, and goes to a door marked 'EXIT', Peter's immediately confused. He frowns, following Tony out, and glances up at him, curious.

"Uh... Mr. Stark? Where are we going, exactly?"

* * *

This might be one of those infamous bad decisions, but Tony doesn't think so. He's not actually _intending _for things to get out of control, okay. He's not trying to pull Peter into some closet to ravish him or get Peter to jerk him off. They already have plans for the BJ after the results show anyway.

Tony wants… he wants to kiss Peter more, to make him feel good. Tony might not be able to converse like a normal person, but he can do this much. Most of their kissing has been frenzied and fast and dirty - which is usually Tony's favorite - but that doesn't mean he can't change things up if and when it suits him.

His Escalade may not be as comfortable as a bed or a couch, but it'll do (and it's definitely better than a washroom). So Tony leads the way there. By now he's learned the ins and outs of this building and the schedule, so he's not expecting to run into anyone.

"Privacy," Tony explains as he gestures to the SUV and unlocks it. Besides, Peter needs some better memories of this backseat.

Tony ushers Peter inside first and then slides in after the kid. He closes and locks the door before glancing across at Peter who's entirely too far away and sitting on the other side.

"Hey, come here," he says and pats his lap.

* * *

Oh. The Escalade. Suddenly everything makes sense.

Peter stares at it as Tony leads the way over, and something conflicted squirms in his chest. There's a hint of arousal there, for sure, because... Peter remembers the first time that Tony had had him in there. The way that Tony had pressed Peter's face to his shoulder and jerked off, and hadn't let Peter see. It had been hot, but frustrating, and Tony had kicked him out immediately after.

Given the kiss inside, Peter thinks he knows what to expect, so when Tony ushers him in, he offers him a quick smile and immediately eases over against the opposite side. Tony follows him in and locks the door, and Peter's already wondering where this is going to go. Being alone with Tony is still amazing, still enough to get his pulse quickening.

So when Tony pats his lap, Peter looks at him and then slowly eases over. He's hesitant; he hasn't really done much like this, but hey, he's willing to try. So Peter crawls over and throws a leg around Tony's lap, settling back against it to straddle. He bites his lip and presses in close, but then Peter freezes with a small frown, because--

Well. Tony's not hard. Immediately Peter's expectations kind of run up against a wall, and when he wets his lips again, it's slower, a little nervous.

"Do you want me to-- I can like... rock against you or, like... use my hands, if that's what you want me to do," he suggests, because it's not like Tony to not give him some sort of instruction.

* * *

Something sweeter, something softer, just a little kissing - snogging the Brits call it. It can be fun and rather erotic to _just _kiss. Tony has no doubt that they'll likely both get turned on because uh, duh, close proximity and lip locking will do that to a person and they already have crazy chemistry. Tony's just glad that no one else has really caught on to it.

Peter looks expectant as he comes on over and Tony shifts closer to allow them the room necessary for this position. Although they've never technically been like this before, Peter's body is a familiar weight. Something settles inside Tony as Peter presses in near, the awakening of an erection already there which frankly pleases Tony.

But then Peter frowns and Tony's honestly taken aback, not seeing the problem until Peter starts babbling away and the pieces fall into place - Peter's uncertain because Tony's not hard and pushing for something immediately. Ah.

Tony's arms wrap around Peter's torso in a loose hug. "Mm, don't worry about it, Pete," Tony murmurs, gazing up at the kid. "Just wanted to kiss you. To really kiss you. Is that okay?"

* * *

To Peter's credit, it does make sense. They've never met up to just talk before, or to do anything aside from something rushed and sexual, and that's fine. Really, Peter's absolutely not complaining about that, but it does mean that he'd assumed... stuff. About this. About the reason that Tony had wanted Peter to follow him. So when he doesn't feel Tony hard, and when Tony seems fine with just this, then... yeah, Peter's confused.

Before he can fall too far down that rabbit hole, though, something clicks behind Tony's eyes. He reaches out, wrapping his arms around Peter, and Peter feels his breath catch a bit, because that honestly feels nice. To his continued shock, Tony tells him not to worry about it, that this is just for kissing, and Peter just blinks down at him, completely taken aback.

It strikes him, then, that Tony had led him to his Escalade, had wanted privacy, just to kiss Peter, and the knowledge makes something fierce and warm suddenly rush through Peter's chest. He can hardly believe it, but already there's a smile playing at his lips. It's small, like he can't quite believe it. This feels... special, maybe.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's more than okay," Peter says, sounding a little awed. "You mean it? For real?"

* * *

Just to kiss Peter, to really kiss him... Tony's brought Peter out into his Escalade in the middle of a rehearsal day (hey, the windows have a wicked tint) for a PG rated kissing session. It is a little ridiculous sounding and something in the back of Tony's mind is niggling at him, like some weakly raised warning flag, but Tony ignores it. He's always been good at ignoring those damn flags, much more of the type to light them on fire and go all out.

They won't be going all out _now_. Tony's sure Peter would probably do anything to please him and while that is a rather delicious thought, Tony thinks taking it slow could be a nice change of pace for Peter.

Strangely, Peter wears a smile that speaks of disbelief and that's only reinforced as Peter asks if Tony actually _means it_. Tony doesn't let himself think on it (on the fact that it seems so unbelievable that Tony could want such a thing). One of Tony's hands lifts and he takes Peter's chin between his thumb and index finger and tilts Peter's head downward.

"I'll show you how real I am," Tony says and while he knows what he'd intended those words to mean, he's unsure if he hit the nail on the head.

But that doesn't matter because Tony leans up and brushes his lips against Peter's. He breaks away a second later, keeping each subsequent kiss light and short, like he's just sampling Peter.

* * *

Peter's not actually sure what he'd done to deserve this, if anything. Tony's weird like that sometimes. Some days he just goes for something full-tilt and others he draws back. Some of his excuses can be kind of arbitrary, but really, is Peter going to complain about getting to spend time with him? Hell no. Yeah, the sex is hot, and the uncertainty behind it kind of adds to that feeling of urgency, but even when they'd had hours in the hotel room, it had still been a different kind of rushed.

But when Tony reaches up to take Peter's chin and then guides him down into the first of many kisses, Peter's left feeling kind of giddy and warm. To his immense surprise, Tony actually does just kiss him. There's no tongue, no biting, no trying to get Peter to squirm. It's just a press of lips, quick and chaste.

Honestly, the first one is over before Peter's even caught up. He's ready for the next one though, and the one after that. And while this is weird for them, Peter kind of likes it. It's slow and unhurried for once, and he gets to focus on other stuff, like the scrape of stubble and the anticipation between each kiss.

Peter kisses back when he finds the rhythm. He doesn't really think about it, sinking into the moment instead, and when Tony draws back a few kisses in, Peter leans in, chasing the kiss with a softer sound. He doesn't even think about it as he licks at the seam of Tony's lips and scrapes his teeth over Tony's bottom lip. It's just what he's gotten used to. Besides, it feels good.

* * *

Tony's good at this, good at kissing and touching and teasing, and he has enough self-control to be able to keep things controlled. His mind is set and the hunger and need isn't pounding within his head. So, Tony indulges and drinks in the feel of Peter on his lap, the feel of Peter's lips first shocked and then kissing back.

It's nice, and Tony's fingers drop from holding Peter's chin, his arm returning to wrap around Peter's lithe form. He doesn't hold Peter too tightly and Tony doesn't grind up (although he could). Staying soft isn't something that Tony tries for and it's pretty much a lost cause as Peter gets more heated.

Given that they haven't kissed all that much, Tony gets it and while he does try and keep this slow and drawn out, Peter pushes. When he feels teeth against his bottom lip, Tony groans and parts his lips for Peter. His hands rub up and down Peter's back (but avoid sliding lower to cup the kid's killer ass).

* * *

It's not like Peter hadn't known that there's something inherently erotic about kissing, but there's a difference between knowing it and experiencing it. Tony kisses him exactly the way that he'd promised he would; it's slow and kind of sweet and he doesn't push too much. In a way, it almost feels kind of like an apology, though Peter doesn't know why.

For inside, maybe? Deflecting? Peter doesn't want to dwell on it. He's pretty sure he could drive himself nuts like that.

Still, when he's the one to push, hearing Tony groan is enough to send a shiver racing pleasantly up Peter's spine. He remembers that sound, remembers the last time he'd heard it, with Tony bending him almost double. Yeah, this is supposed to be a kind of softer moment, but Peter can't help but remember that. Their whole thing has been built around sex so far.

So when Tony's lips part and hands rub along his back, Peter only hesitates for a second before he licks tentatively into Tony's mouth. Peter doesn't have a lot of practice with kissing, but as he tastes Tony's lips and settles a little deeper into this experience, he decides that it's actually pretty great. It's sensual and heady, and he's definitely getting hard, but Peter isn't quite ready to stop kissing Tony yet.

* * *

Their whole thing has been built around sex. Flirting and sex and the competition show that Tony cares less and less about as each episode is filmed and aired. But the sex has been great. Really great. Phenomenal even. But it doesn't mean anything. How could it when Peter's got a case of the fanboy crush and Tony's got a case of being a deviant.

Tony's been upfront about what this is and maybe Peter isn't thrilled about Tony being free to cozy up to whoever he wants to, but that's the way things are.

As Peter continues to push, tongue swiping against his own, Tony gives in. If this is what Peter wants, Tony can do it. This is the one thing he can effortlessly provide so he'll be damned if he holds back. Even so, the kissing feels like a pendulum swinging back and forth from sweet to dirty. Peter mimics a few things Tony's done previously - nipping or sucking on a bottom lip but he also lets Tony brush the lightest of kisses to his mouth. It's a good compromise and as the minutes tick by, Tony's cock is straining in his jeans.

* * *

Kissing Tony is kind of amazing, Peter's decided as he enjoys the slow, sweet, and sometimes-dirty making out. He shivers as Tony eventually starts to kiss him back in the same way, and while it isn't as filthy and dismissive as it normally is, it still feels good. It still makes Peter feel heat rushing down his spine, still has him comfortably hard in his jeans, and it's enough for a long few minutes.

Peter isn't sure how long it would have been enough for if he hadn't rocked forwards a little to chase a kiss that Tony had been drawing back from, but when Peter does lean in to chase it, he freezes. Tony's hard under him. Like... really hard. And despite the fact that Tony had kind of indicated that he'd only wanted to kiss, Peter feels a quick pang of want.

Plus... Tony can't be _just _interested in kissing. That's not what this has been about so far. So, assuming that this is different, Peter draws back from the kiss and tentatively rolls his hips, wetting his lips.

"Do you want me to... I mean, I could get you off," Peter suggests, his breathing a bit quick.

* * *

Over the years, Tony's kissed a lot of people. Drunk kissing, exhausted kissing, uncaring kissing, kissing just to shut up the other person, kissing to prove just how good he is, but this is different. This is an indulgence, and maybe his intention had bordered on something apologetic, but Tony isn't even that concerned with what his intentions had been because he's enjoying the present. He's enjoying how hard Peter is, how Peter chases after him, obviously hungry but still delighting in the varied kissing.

Tony's hands languidly roam over Peter's back. Without any warning, Peter breaks away to consider him, seeming to have now just figured out that Tony's gotten aroused.

Tony gazes at a flushed Peter as he offers to get him off. Like it's just the next logical step. Normally Tony would dismiss it because that hadn't been apart of his plan, but he still remembers how he'd reacted the first time he'd taken out his dick in front of Peter, how he'd not let Peter see or touch him and he knows that kind of behavior really bothered the kid.

So Tony smiles, "If you want to, I want you to." But he goes a step further, "you take out Daddy's cock now. I know how you like it."

* * *

Peter doesn't really realize how relieved he is to have something normal until Tony agrees. Just like that, a little tension drains out of his shoulders, because this is something they've done before, and Peter can predict this. It's not that he hadn't enjoyed the kissing; there's a part of him that wants to go back to it, that wants to _just _kiss and kiss until Tony makes him stop.

But that's not what they do, and he doesn't want to give Tony any reason to go to anyone else.

So hearing Tony agree - and hearing him slip back into that role that makes Peter shiver - is a relief. Peter closes his eyes against a small pang of arousal and swallows. When he nods, he slides his hand down between them, and he doesn't wait to carefully undo Tony's belt and fly. Peter doesn't fumble (much), and it's only when he's drawing Tony's dick out from his boxers that Peter realizes where they are. And, more importantly, what that means.

He remembers Tony denying him here. He remembers Tony maybe-using him, or using his presence at least to get off, and remembers being kicked out after. So that Tony is allowing him this now... Peter doesn't think that's a coincidence. He smiles, giving Tony's cock a slow stroke.

"I do. Like it, I mean. A lot. But I like you too, not just, uh... well. You know. Your dick."

* * *

Why not? If Peter wants to do it, Tony can let him. Besides, a part of him is thrilled that his Boy Wonder wants to get down and dirty and is asking. Peter's enthusiasm is a good thing. Now that things have escalated like they have, there's really no reason to deny Peter the opportunity.

If anything, Tony should be jumping at these chances because who knows how long they will keep popping up. Tony had said that they could continue messing around after the show - that it would be easier even - but why would Peter want that? Tony's already fucked him, Peter's list of experiences is growing larger, and Tony's already proven that he's an asshole. Give him more time and he'll have that fact cemented in Peter's skull.

But for now, like a trained monkey, he'll do what he's good at.

Tony smirks as Peter gets to it, hands working at freeing his erection. His attention alternates between Peter's captivated face and the hand that wraps around his dick. Peter isn't fast with it, but he is cute with his commentary.

"Mmm hmm," Tony agrees and he leans forward, kissing along Peter's neck and nipping lightly. No harm in providing some stimulation for Peter.

* * *

Peter feels the careful kisses and nips along his throat and they're enough to make him shudder. It's half because it's Tony, but also half because this isn't something they do often. Tony isn't really gentle when they do this, and as Peter's hand wraps around Tony's dick and he lets himself sink into the moment, he realizes that the little kisses and nips kind of feel like... praise.

Which is ridiculous, he knows, but still. It's nice, and it does actually make him focus more on how to do this the best.

It doesn't really help that his mind reminds him that this had been inside of him a few days ago. Peter feels a small twist of heat and he swallows, but oddly that just makes him feel a little bolder. He darts a quick look at Tony as though checking that this is still okay. Then, when no protest comes, Peter lifts his hand, carefully (and a little awkwardly) spits into it, and reaches back down.

"Sorry. I know that's weird," he says, even though he doesn't need to. "Just-- no lube-- you know."

And, to save himself from further explanation, he wraps his hand back around Tony's cock and begins to stroke for real. Peter glances down, watching, intending to learn everything he possibly can as Tony kisses praise into his skin.

* * *

This is par for the course and what they're used to. There's nothing wrong with Peter going for his dick, with Peter wanting to get him off. More experience is a plus. Tony's practically doing the kid a service here. By the time Peter grows tired of him, Peter Parker will be a pro and it'll be entirely Tony's influence. Another job well done, you're welcome.

So Tony throws himself into the moment, lips kissing up Peter's neck and delighting in the tremor that travels through Peter's body. He's pleasantly surprised when Peter actually goes for the 'ole spit-on-the-hand' routine but the sound is hot and Peter's spit-slick hand does feel better around his cock.

Tony's hips jut up as much as they can with a pile of Peter on his lap and he sighs against Peter's neck.

"Such a good boy for me, Peter," Tony praises in between kisses. He closes his eyes, luxuriating in the quicker strokes Peter pays to his cock. His hands roam to the hem of Peter's shirt so they can slip underneath and touch bare skin. Tony drags his fingernails up Peter's back as he leans in closer to Peter's ear.

"Tell me how it felt to be fucked by Daddy's dick," Tony whispers and it's just so easy to fall into this. How could he possibly resist?

* * *

It may be Peter with his hand jerking Tony off, but Peter doesn't fool himself into thinking that he's the one calling the shots here. The thought of getting Tony off makes him feel hot, but he can't really ignore the ache in his own dick as Tony just... touches him. The scratch of stubble against his throat, the low murmur of Tony's voice, and the way that Tony's hands slide along his skin, under his shirt? It's all a lot, all enough to make him ache, but he doesn't stop stroking.

It is easy to fall back into this. The edge of arousal and embarrassment and excitement is almost familiar by now as Tony whispers praises against his neck and Peter shudders on Tony's lap. But when Tony asks his question, Peter feels a lance of heat and embarrassment shoot hot up his spine. He makes a small sound without meaning to, because his imagination has always been one of his strong points.

"God, Tony," Peter murmurs, and breathes through the pleasant ache that the memory leaves him with. "Felt... felt good. Really good. It was a lot-- sensation, I mean. And-- and, you know." Peter cuts off with a small grimace, because he's so not good at this part.

"I mean, you're not small. But I still liked it. Still kind of aches but in a good way."

* * *

Just a few days ago Tony had fucked Peter bareback and taken Peter's virginity. It's still a pleasant, warm thought that Tony likes to re-visit. That heated night of reckless abandon, Peter's cries loud and breathy, Peter's come sticky on their skin as it dried because Peter couldn't help but get off multiple times, a loaded gun just waiting for Tony's finger to squeeze the trigger again and again.

Peter makes a sound now and Tony knows that Peter likes the question he's been asked. Tony's tongue slips out and he licks along the shell of Peter's ear as the kid tries to stutter out his answer.

Tony doesn't respond immediately, choosing to suck on the lobe of Peter's ear for a moment, to allow the words to hang over them. Of course it's delightful to hear that Peter liked it and that Peter's still feeling it. It's not even an ego-size thing, it's that he's still with Peter in some capacity, like a lingering wound. Tony's mouth pulls away as his hands come down to grip Peter's ass.

"You want me to fuck you again, don't you?" Tony asks because he wants to hear it.

* * *

Peter has no idea if his ears are just sensitive, or if it's just because this is Tony. He's beginning to suspect it's just that this is Tony touching him, and Tony taking his time to distract him. Tony doesn't say anything for awhile, but that's probably to Peter's benefit, because all it takes is the sucking to make his hips want to twitch up against nothing.

To his credit, he doesn't stop stroking Tony's cock, though there's less of a rhythm now as he focuses on feeling it. Peter focuses on the weight, on the heat, the silken press of skin, and the memory of how Tony's dick had felt, and he swallows back a softer sound. But it means that when Tony asks his question, there's no hesitation. Peter knows the answer.

"Yeah," he breathes, the sound a little unsteady. It had hurt a bit, and having Tony's come drip out of him after had been kind of awkward, but fuck if he hadn't liked it. Just like he really likes how Tony's hands feel on his ass. Peter nods slightly, heat prickling at his neck.

"Yeah, I do. It was... it was really good. Can you blame me?" He pauses, then adds, a little more awkwardly, "it... was good, right? For you too?"

* * *

Peter's handjob isn't spectacular, but given the angle and the limited space as well as Peter's inexperience, Tony hadn't been expecting much. It's still good, it's still a hand on his dick, and it's Peter, so Tony's hard and slowly ambling toward orgasm.

The conversation is actually more engaging to him. Knowing that Peter is thinking about the last time they fucked? It's great. Having Peter work through verbalizing his feelings about said activity? Rewarding.

The question has Tony softly snorting as he squeezes Peter's ass, almost as if in admonishment.

"Of course it was good for me. I came in that sweet little ass of yours, didn't I?" Tony asks as he pulls back to gaze at Peter who looks flushed and so expressive - uncertain, turned on, eager. Tony wishes he could take a picture of his face.

* * *

Peter knows that asking really isn't helping his case on the whole 'acting confident' front, but he can't help it. Yeah, Tony's still here; Tony didn't just up and ditch him completely afterward, but Peter knows he's still new to this, and Tony... well. Tony isn't. That disparity is enough to make him a little nervous despite his eagerness.

Oddly, it's the almost immediate squeeze to his ass that makes him feel better, and Peter isn't quite sure if that's Pavlovian of him or not. Probably. And when Tony goes on and says what he does, Peter closes his eyes with a soft, bitten-back groan. A shiver slides up his spine and he nods tightly. He's starting to believe that just thinking about sex is almost as good as having it.

Peter's cock gives a small twitch in his jeans, but that only serves to make him redouble his efforts as he strokes along Tony's dick. He looks down between them, eyes bright, and thinks about what he likes, and then tries it. He twists his wrist on every second upstroke and lets his thumb glance along the underside. He has to angle his wrist a bit awkwardly to do it, but Peter's pretty sure it'll feel good.

"You-- yeah, you did. And that was... god, that was really hot, Mr. Stark. Like seriously."

* * *

Peter seems to gain some confidence or direction in his handjob and changes up the pace a little. Tony's breath hitches pleasantly, enjoying the added variation and sensation of Peter's thumb rubbing underneath the head. It does strike him that the angle is bad for wrist comfort, but this is what Peter had wanted. Tony isn't the one who'd asked for it, he's under no obligation to try and make this easier for Peter. Impromptu anything isn't often convenient, best to learn it now.

Tony's lips pull into a smirk at Peter's praise. "I know that you liked me filling you," Tony murmurs warmly and briefly he remembers how it'd felt to shoot his load into Peter, for that slam of gripping pleasure and relief as Peter's body practically rippled around him.

"Move your hand faster," Tony instructs, deciding that he'd rather get off sooner than later. He's pretty sure that they still have a good thirty minutes, but he wants his orgasm.

* * *

Tony's definitely not wrong. Peter shudders slightly at the memory of the way that Tony had felt when he'd filled him. Yeah, the clean-up after had kind of sucked, and he'd needed to subtly wash his boxers later that night without anyone else knowing, but the moment itself had been great. A bit sore, sure, and definitely intense and exposing, but still good. Peter swallows and nods.

But before he can agree, Tony cuts in with his instruction, and Peter feels a quick flutter of anticipation in his chest. He looks down at where he's jerking Tony off, and while a part of him does want to hasten to obey, there's another part of him that's almost... reluctant.

He wants to get Tony off his way, to take this rare opportunity to be the one to get Tony off... but Peter lets the thought fall away. Tony obviously knows what he likes best, and he doesn't want to risk Tony calling it off.

"Yeah, okay. I can do that," Peter says, and he picks up the pace, biting at his lower lip as he jerks Tony's dick faster. His wrist kind of hurts, but knowing that he's making Tony feel good? Peter's way into that. "Do you-- um. Do you think... that's something that's going to happen again? The hotel thing."

* * *

Bitterly, Tony reflects on the fact that they're always being ruled by time restraints and limitations, fucking social niceties and norms... Even their fucked up little fuck fest at the hotel had come with time constraints. It won't be changing any time soon, either, because win or lose, Tony knows he's going to support Peter and make him a star.

Tony can do that much. Maybe he'll ruin Peter, this messing around bit might end bad, but Tony's going to catapult Peter Parker into the fucking sky.

His good boy listens to him, Peter's hand moving faster, and the edge of orgasm is approaching. Tony's head lolls back but it doesn't stay that way, Peter's question pulling at him. Tony narrows his eyes, breathing quicker.

"_The 'fucking you_' part or the hotel room visit?" Tony asks as he leans in, ghosting his lips across Peter's.

* * *

Of course Tony is going to make him say it. Of course. Peter feels a rush of heat color his cheeks as he sits there, straddling Tony's thighs. It's ironic that Peter isn't even embarrassed to be touching Tony's dick, or rushing to get him off. No, he's embarrassed about acknowledging what he wants, because... it seems like a slippery slope, a novel concept of sorts.

Peter doesn't know how much he's allowed to ask for. He can react, sure, and Tony can push him to agree to things that Peter wants. But Peter wanting them independently? That's still a gray area, and as Tony leans in to brush a kiss over his lips, Peter makes a small sound and swallows.

"The--... the fucking me thing," he admits, his tone a little quieter. He wants that, but Tony's kind of the one calling the shots here.

Peter wets his lips and as he drops his gaze to Tony's dick and gives it a few quicker, sharper strokes, he adds, "it was intense. And it was just... better, knowing it was with you."

* * *

Yes, Tony is going to make Peter verbally answer him. Tony wants Peter's desires to be crystal clear between them and he's not going to let Peter hide from them, even if it might embarrass Peter to admit them (especially then). Personal responsibility or accountability or something like that. Plus, Tony just wants to hear it, too. He already knows the answer, that Peter does want to be fucked again, because why wouldn't he? His baby boy is such a cock slut for him.

With his own orgasm approaching, witnessing Peter's embarrassment and arousal in relation to this particular desire is gripping. Peter doesn't disappoint him either, cheeks ruddy and eyes blown, his baby boy desperate for it. The spoken words are soft and as Peter's hand moves quicker, Tony groans. His own hands squeeze Peter's ass in a grip that's gotta be painful.

He knows exactly what kind of treat Peter's going to get if he does well after the next results show and it's not going to be Peter trying to give him a subpar blowjob. Just the thought of it has Tony groaning, because anticipation in a drug in and of itself.

"It's _always _going to be better with me, baby," Tony comments and his stomach quivers, a few faster strokes from Peter and Tony's coming with a low groan. One of his own hands snaps forward to cover the tip of his cock in order to stop his jizz from shooting on his clothing.

* * *

There's no way that this should be as hot as it is, but it is. Peter feels the heat of arousal burning in his chest as Tony watches him, because Tony always seems to look at him like Peter is something entirely other. He looks at Peter like he wants to pin him down and ravish him, and now that Peter knows what that feels like, he feels his cock aching in his jeans.

Getting off is great, and it's honestly a miracle that he hasn't done it yet, especially with Tony squeezing his ass basically to bruising (and wow, isn't that going to be an interesting sight later...) but Peter isn't as focused on himself. Not in the present, at least. With Tony's pleasure growing, his breathing quicker, and his voice rough and spun from sex, Peter's got other things to focus on.

He tries not to think of Tony's words as a sort of promise, because Tony could always say no. But as Peter feels him tense and hears that perfect low groan, Peter bites his lip hard and watches, hungry for it as Tony's dick twitches and pulses in his hand. Tony catches his own come and Peter lets out a slow, shuddering breath. He doesn't stop stroking, not until Tony tells him to.

"Is it-- is it going to happen?" Peter prompts, a bit breathless. "Are you going to fuck me again?"

* * *

_Most orgasms_ feel better with the another person involved in someway, but Peter has always been a guaranteed thing for Tony, like an extra edge and it's no different now. Maybe it's how Peter looks so damn invested in getting him off that adds that layer of additional _fuck yeah_ to the whole experience.

Tony's not interested in trying to figure it out. It feels good - _he _feels good and that's what he basks in. The annoyance of having to operate under time limits doesn't matter. Peter's hand milks every last drop of come out of him and only then does Tony reach for cleaning wipes that he has tucked to the side. He's quick and practiced as he wipes off his fingers and dick.

But it's Peter's breathless question that draws Tony's eyes up, a pleased smirk playing on his lips. It's really rather sweet that Peter wants more.

"Oh baby boy, I'll fuck you as often as you want," Tony says smoothly as he disposes of the wipes and then nudges Peter back to allow him to put away his cock.

* * *

Peter feels a little drunk as he watches Tony take care of himself after he's finished. Looking from Tony's dick, up to his face and back again, Peter can feel the heat of desire under his skin, can feel wary anticipation burning. Tony had said that he'll let Peter suck him off, or at least try to, and that's definitely something that Peter wants, but the thought of being with Tony _like that _again is enough to make Peter feel a little dizzy with it.

So while he does obediently shift back to let Tony tuck himself away, there's no hiding the slight hitch in Peter's breathing when Tony replies. Tony's voice is almost a promise and Peter feels a shiver run through his body as he sits back on Tony's knees, swallowing down a sound that he doesn't quite want to let out.

"Oh. Wow... uh-- good," Peter finally decides on, even though he knows that he sounds a bit lame. It's hard to think when Tony looks as good as he does, and when Peter's flying high on the satisfaction of knowing that Tony will fuck him again, _and _that Peter had made him come. He feels way too pleased with himself.

"That--definitely again."


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things starting to heat up, oh yeah... 🔥🔥🔥

* * *

**[After the live results show]**

It's only later that Tony realizes Peter had actually been the one to take some initiative with him in the SUV. It hadn't even been Tony's intention _to_ get off, but Peter had seemed quite determined, so why wouldn't Tony go along with it? Felt good, Peter looked thrilled by the accomplishment-of-sorts.

Besides, it's definitely a good thing that Peter is showing initiative and confidence - so important for a young person, right? Right. 

It's no surprise that Peter isn't in the bottom three. America loves Peter's sweetness and his boyish grins. America is impressed by Peter's sound and vocal range too. By now, Tony's accustomed to putting on a good live show - flirting and giving shit to the other judges - but not _too_ much. He's blunt with the contestants, but real. Tony goes through the motions but his head is actively engaged in thinking about his plans for _after_ the show.

He texts Peter to be ready at midnight to be picked up and Tony makes the necessary arrangements. Making those arrangements, anticipating and obsessing over the details and what's going to happen has Tony practically vibrating with excitement. The waiting doesn't even phase him, doesn't irritate him, and by the time he's pulling up to the familiar street, he's beyond satisfied to find Peter there _early_ and waiting.

Peter climbs in and before Peter can start rambling, Tony leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Peter's shocked face, his hand dropping to Peter's crotch and squeezing, encouraging. With a smirk, his head drawing back, Tony's hand doesn't leave. 

"Hey baby," Tony says smoothly.

* * *

It's always a thrill to perform, but it's always nerve-wracking to stand in front of the panel of judges as they're counted down one by one. Peter's prepared to need to sing to stay that evening, because they _are_ down to five groups and it's statistically more likely for him to be in the bottom than not. So when his name is the _first_ name they call to tell the contestants that they're safe, Peter is shocked beyond belief. In a way, it feels like all of his building adrenaline gets stuck, because he'd expected to work it off during the show. 

Still, he's not stupid. He graciously thanks America and his fans for voting for him, relieved, and when he goes to stand on the other side of the stage to watch, he tries to remind himself _not _to stare at Tony. He does offer his mentor a quick smile though, thrilled.

Later, when Peter's phone vibrates in his pocket, he feels wired for a different reason. All it takes is one look at his phone before his pulse skips. He doesn't make it obvious, sitting with a few of the other people left over, and he goes through the motions. They talk, there's a bit of a fight between two of the other guys, but when they all retire to bed, Peter is already planning ahead.

He gets dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a dark grey hoodie, because despite how good he and Tony have been at keeping this a secret, he knows it's better to be safe. Peter sneaks out quietly, his phone clutched in his hoodie, and he makes his way to the street, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. 

He hasn't forgotten what Tony had promised him - that he could try sucking him off - and he feels both nervous and excited.

When the SUV pulls up, Peter hastens over and climbs in. He's got his mouth open to start talking the moment he gets settled, but before he says anything, Tony leans in. 

The kiss is sudden and quick, and Peter jerks in slight surprise. But when Tony's hand drops to the front of his jeans, Peter gasps, already feeling the tingle of heat spike.

"I-- h-hey, Tony. Um-- what're you doing?"

* * *

Tony remembers what he'd promised Peter: if Peter did well, Tony would let the eager beaver have a chance at sucking the great Tony Stark off. Over that phone call, it had been just the nicest of chats… Peter hopeful to try, Peter trusting him enough where Tony could even purposely gag him. Peter had wanted _practice_ or had it been Tony that suggested it? Hard to remember exactly. Doesn't matter.

Dressed darkly, Peter looks a little like a hoodlum, like he's about to commit a crime. Amusing. Oh, Tony gets it - Peter is a smart kid after all - concerned about blending in. Tony isn't dressed to the nines in the least - just a comfy pair of faded jeans and a loose button-down shirt. 

Peter's gasp and subsequent question have satisfaction slithering through Tony. How could he ever _not_ touch Peter when he gets such reactions?

"Touching you," Tony answers, smooth and confident as his palm rubs slowly. He has no plans on _staying _here, but he's not going to rush just yet. "Am I not allowed to?"

* * *

It's got to be pathetic, how quickly Peter feels arousal starting to rush through him at just a simple touch. He's not this easy on his own, and he's absolutely glanced at porn and had his dick stay soft. There's just something about _Tony_ that breaks down those barriers, and flying as high as he is on the results show, it's just a perfect storm.

Not that he's complaining. Peter shivers as he settles back in his seat with a soft breath. He reaches up and eases the hood of his hoodie back. Glancing at Tony and noting the easy, lazy look in his eyes only makes Peter feel hotter, because anticipation is still bubbling up inside of him as he sits there. He hasn't forgotten Tony's promise, and he's as nervous as he is excited.

"You-- no, you're allowed to," Peter rushes out on a breath. He swallows and looks down, watching as Tony slowly, _perfectly_ rubs at the front of his jeans. It doesn't take long for Peter to feel himself beginning to harden more. Again, this is _Tony_, and the slow, purposeful touching is really, unexpectedly hot. 

"I just... I wasn't expecting it so, uh. Soon."

* * *

Frankly the notion of Peter _not_ giving him permission to touch is both absurd and amusing. It's so fucking obvious that Peter is hot for him. Tony sees it in Peter's widening eyes, feels it in how Peter's body trembles from just the slightest touch. He's heard Peter's breath hitch, heard the sweetest curses fall from Peter's mouth. Yeah, he's got ample proof that Peter is easy for him. Quick to get hard, quick to get off - it's a heady delight that Tony only wants more of.

Seeing Peter glance _down_ and watch while his hand is against Peter's hardening dick has Tony feeling a throb of his own arousal. He's smirking at Peter's adorable and honest answer and Tony hums as he pats Peter's crotch before finally pulling his hand away.

"We're heading back to the hotel," Tony then informs Peter. He doesn't ask if Peter is okay with it because he already knows that Peter is. The Escalade is fairly spacious, but it's got nothing on a legitimate room and bed. 

Tony is flying high as he pulls out of park and begins the drive. Given the hour, traffic isn't horrible and Tony makes general comments about the show to Peter. They still have an impending time constraint, but it's in the back of his head. 

He knows what he wants and he's going to get it. Nothing is going to put a damper on that.

* * *

Tony might not be touching Peter as he drives them both to the hotel, but that doesn't mean that Peter loses that thread of arousal that Tony had started. He still feels wired, still feels a little high from the results and from the thought of what Tony had promised him. Maybe his dick isn't throbbing or anything, but Peter can feel the tightness of arousal low in his stomach and it's a pleasant reminder of what's going to happen as Tony drives them to their destination.

Peter does his best to keep up with the small talk, but his pulse is quick in his chest when Tony parks his Escalade. Peter doesn't ask him what to do; he remembers from last time. So, he falls into step behind Tony as Tony gets out and then leads Peter in through the back, where no one else can see them.

Peter feels nerves fluttering in his chest the whole way up to the suite that Tony had used before, and when Tony finally unlocks the door, Peter lets out a low breath and ducks inside, stepping out of his shoes immediately. His dick is already a bit hard again just from the anticipation.

"Is there anything you want me to do?" Peter asks, wetting his lips.

* * *

It's impossible to not fondly recall what had transpired a little over a week ago. Steadily, Tony is building up such a delicious scrapbook of experiences to look back on. The pages will be filled with memories of Peter squirming, his gasps, the taste of his sweet mouth, the feel of his perfect body...

Yeah, when things one way or another, go tits up, Tony will have fun thinking back and fantasizing about the whirlwind that Peter Parker had been. But that fantasizing will be for later as he's got Peter here and now. That impending explosion? That inevitable unravelling? Tony acknowledges that disaster of some sort will befall them because he's never touched anything and _not_ stained it.

Tony follows suit, kicking off shoes and at Peter's question he chuckles. "Oh, Pete, you're too much," Tony murmurs and his hand reaches out, snaking under Peter's hoodie as he hooks two fingers into the waistband of Peter's jeans. Tony steps toward the dimly lit living room and tugs Peter to follow him. 

His hand only pulls away when he stops at a glass table with numerous bottles of liquor waiting. Tony selects his favorite and pours himself a rather full tumbler before regarding Peter next to him. 

"You want some, yes or no?" Tony has no need to force or liquor Peter up, but _he_ wants some for this.

* * *

Peter knows he's probably being really lame, but he can't help it. That little hook of Tony's fingers into the belt-loops of his jeans is hot in a way that Peter can't explain. He looks down, a bit flustered, and when Tony begins to walk away like he expects Peter to follow, Peter doesn't disappoint. He stumbles a bit, trying not to think of words like 'ownership' and 'leash', but it's difficult.

He doesn't know what he's expecting when Tony leads the way into the living room, but the assortment of liquor very clear on the table is not it. Peter pauses and Tony pulls his hand away, but that's fine. Peter's attention is on the alcohol, and on the realization that Tony intends to drink at least some of it.

Well, _duh_, what else do you do with alcohol? He fights the urge to roll his eyes at himself.

Still, he's not expecting Tony to offer _him_ any, and maybe it's lame, but... okay, so, this is all going against the rules, but Peter's still nineteen. He's not technically _allowed_ to drink, but like... it's not like he hasn't been to parties before. He purses his lips and darts a glance at Tony. Will Tony think less of him if he doesn't? 

"Uhm... maybe-- just a bit? Just enough to take the edge off, I guess?"

* * *

Tony knows Peter's age, but if Peter is old enough to join the army and shoot a motherfucker, he's old enough to drink. That's Tony's justification at least - not that he really needs one. He hardly thinks that Peter would expect anything different from him anyway. Alcohol and sex is a tricky balance, too much and you can get whiskey dick, too little and you get little effect other than getting dehydrated and having to piss more.

Having that slight buzz, though? The edges of his thoughts getting more hazy? The warmth and thrill of being loose and easy? Tony likes that.

"Excellent," Tony praises at Peter's answer.

But before he pours any for Peter, Tony slams back his own whiskey. He won't be feeling anything until he has about three drinks anyway. It burns, but the heat is welcome. Tony doesn't bother getting another glass for Peter. He pours about two fingers of whiskey into his tumbler and then turns to Peter. 

"Tip your head back. Mouth open. Eyes closed," he instructs.

* * *

There's something both hot and kind of worrying about the ease in the way Tony tips back his drink. Or... maybe 'tips' is too gentle a word for the way he all but throws it back like he doesn't even need to swallow it anymore. Peter's no alcohol virgin or anything, but he'd tried rum once at a party a few years back and he'd all but choked on it despite the spiced taste. The hard liquor does give him pause.

But when Tony pours more whiskey and then tells Peter to tilt his head back and close his eyes, Peter swallows back his nerves. He wets his lips with a quick flick of his tongue and tells himself not to worry too much about this. He's not going to get in trouble.

So he nods, darting a quick look at Tony before he does as he'd been told. He closes his eyes with a flutter of nerves and then tilts his head back, parting his lips obediently. Peter's not _really_ sure what to expect - if Tony's just going to tip the whole glass into his mouth or what - but he's here and he doesn't have any plans of leaving. This is fine.

* * *

By now it's almost an exact science with how and what to drink. Tony's rather experienced, maybe even wise, at least when it comes to drinking and himself. He's never needed alcohol to _help him_ land a potential partner or partners. If they wanted to drink, fine, but Tony isn't scum who preys on hot, drunk idiots.

Interested eyes watch Peter obey and just the sight - Peter licking his lips before those sweet eyes close and his head tilts back - has Tony's dick waking up. He takes one quick sip of the whiskey before he dips two of his fingers in - his index and middle finger - he swishes the whiskey around, coating them. He lifts them carefully, keeping the tumbler underneath to catch any stray drops.

His hand lifts to Peter's waiting mouth and he rubs whiskey-wet fingers against Peter's tongue. 

"Time for a little practice," Tony murmurs. "Suck them."

* * *

Peter really, _really_ hopes that Tony doesn't just pour the glass into his mouth, but he doesn't open his eyes or cringe away. Maybe it's stupid, but he does trust Tony to a certain extent, and despite how vulnerable he feels with his eyes closed and his mouth open, Peter's not about to pretend like he's not here _because_ of Tony.

So, when he suddenly feels something against his tongue, Peter jolts a little in surprise. His first thought is that it's not a sudden pour of whiskey. His _second_ thought (after moving his tongue a bit) is that those are Tony's fingers, and the taste of whiskey - while bitter and sharp - is enough to send a lance of heat down through Peter. He makes a small sound, not really sure _why_ it's hot, but he's not going to complain.

Feeling only a little ridiculous, he closes his lips around Tony's fingers. Having his eyes closed kind of helps, but he does focus on the taste of the whiskey as he starts to suck. He can feel Tony's calluses against his tongue and he remembers how those fingers had felt inside of him. Peter shivers as he sucks and moves his tongue over each of Tony's fingers, chasing the taste of whiskey and what he can taste of Tony.

* * *

It's really such a treat to watch how obedient and trusting Peter is. It makes Tony curious... Just what could he do to Peter? What could he make Peter do? He doesn't think about it now, but it's food for thought.

Peter's lips close around his fingers and Tony's lips curve into a small, satisfied smile when he feels Peter's tongue explore his fingers. Given the insinuation - that Tony's fingers represent his dick - yeah, Tony is getting a little hard. He's been thinking about this mouth for weeks.

"Yeah, that's right baby, you wiggle that tongue all around, taste me," Tony instructs. He keeps his fingers still, letting Peter learn and explore. Downing the rest of the drink, he's careful as he places the glass back down on the table and pours himself a refill. 

He doesn't pick up the tumbler - not yet. Instead, his other hand reaches and wraps around Peter's throat. He's not overly firm, not squeezing, but the touch is steady. It's then that Tony begins thrusting his fingers inside Peter's mouth.

* * *

Yeah, Peter knows why Tony is doing this. He might be new to this, but he's not completely stupid. It's for that reason that when Tony murmurs his praise and encouragement, Peter feels a flush of heat settle somewhere around his cheeks. This is _absolutely_ simulating oral sex and he'd be worried that he looks ridiculous like this if it wasn't for Tony's low, obvious praise.

As it is, Peter draws a quick breath in through his nose and does as he's told. He moves his tongue, trying to figure out how to suck and tongue at Tony's fingers in a way that doesn't remind him of drinking a milkshake through a thick straw. But when he feels the sudden touch of Tony's hand to his throat, Peter freezes, his pulse skipping, caught off guard. What is--

Oh.

Peter's not sure how hard he is now, but he knows his jeans feel snug. He groans slightly around Tony's fingers as they slowly thrust into his mouth, and Peter reaches up without thinking, grabbing at Tony's free arm. He holds it there, and when he swallows, he can feel Tony's hand pressing against his throat. It's somehow a little dizzying with odd arousal as he lets Tony fuck Peter's mouth with his fingers.

* * *

It's not that this is legitimate practice. Fingers can only do so much. A smaller dildo would be better, but this is intimate and it's playful. While it could be sexy to watch Peter's pretty lips stretch around silicone, feeling the heat and wetness of Peter's mouth on his fingers right now is far more appealing.

The gentle grasp on Peter's throat isn't meant to restrict the kid's breathing. Tony wants to touch Peter's lovely throat, to feel that strong pulse, to feel when Peter swallows excess saliva. Peter's hand reaches out, grasping at his wrist. A flash of irritation appears on Tony's face. He thinks about scolding Peter for touching him like this or shaking him off. 

But he doesn't. 

Peter _is_ being pliant for his fingers, after all. Tony hums, enjoying the wet sounds as he lazily thrusts into Peter's mouth. This continues for a little while, Tony's eyes only flicking to the waiting alcohol and the beautiful scene in front of him. Without warning, Tony pulls out his fingers. 

"Keep your mouth open," he tells before reaching down and dipping his fingers back into the whiskey. This time he's less mindful, dripping fingers lifting to rub against Peter's slick lips. Rivulets of whiskey trail down Peter's chin.

"I like messy blow jobs," Tony shares conversationally and to prove his point, he outright spits on Peter's bottom lip.

* * *

Peter doesn't think anything of holding onto Tony's wrist for support. Tony hadn't told him to open his eyes after telling him to close them, and as badly as Peter wants to look, he doesn't. This - holding onto Tony's arm - is a small concession, just to feel a little more connected. Tony has a bit of a habit of not letting Peter _see_ when he wants to, and the touch makes it feel a little less weird.

Besides, it doesn't take Peter long to get into it. It's a little awkward at first, but as Tony thrusts steadily with his fingers and Peter swallows down excess saliva that still carries the taste of whiskey, he relaxes into the feeling. There's something hot and intimate about it and when he thinks about doing this to Tony's dick-- well. His own gives a twitch at the thought.

When Tony draws his fingers back, Peter almost misses them, but he does what he'd been told. He keeps his mouth open, and when Tony's whiskey-slick fingers touch his lips again and then that liquid trails down his chin, Peter puzzles a little over _why_\-- and then, just like that, he jerks a little in _real_ surprise when Tony just-- spits? On his lip?

Peter doesn't mean to open his eyes _or_ jerk back, but he does both by accident, caught off guard. A part of him immediately thinks he should be offended, but his dick - very confusingly - seems to think otherwise. He flushes slightly, awkward, and immediately swallows.

"I'm-- sorry. I didn't mean to-- you startled me."

But he doesn't make a move to wipe the spit from his lips.

* * *

Context. A lot of shit can be weird if not done in the right setting. Case in point, spitting. Dudes spitting all nillywilly to be manly or whatever? Disrespectful and gross. Children spitting because they're wild animals? Unsightly. Spitting on Peter's lips to help create the perfect image of a sloppy blowjob? Acceptable.

Unsurprisingly, Peter jolts, startled but under Tony's scrutiny, Peter doesn't appear disgusted. Peter's eyes open and regard him before an apology follows, but Tony's more interested in how he can see that Peter is still hard and his face still flushed. All good signs. Besides, that apology is just so darn sweet that Tony can't help but smile. His free hand lifts, and he lets hits thumb smear some of his spit across Peter's bottom lip.

The sight, Peter's slick mouth, his spit almost like a claim… Tony fucking loves it.

"I know, baby," Tony assures. "But I think you still like it."

* * *

Peter watches Tony warily after jerking back, because he really hadn't meant to. Yeah, the spitting thing is... weird, kind of. Peter isn't sure what to think of it, but he's still hard, and there had been something weirdly hot about it. He's not sure what, and he thinks it has more to do with Tony than being spat on, but when Tony smiles at him and then lifts his hand to rub his thumb along Peter's bottom lip, Peter relaxes a little. 

Tony's assertion goes right to Peter's dick in a quick rush of sensation. He half-closes his eyes with a soft sound; at this point, he's pretty sure that Tony saying anything positive about him is pretty much his favorite thing in the world. Feeling the way that Tony's thumb keeps touching him, Peter swallows and then eases back in closer.

On a whim, he touches his tongue to Tony's thumb, and when Tony doesn't immediately draw it back, he closes his lips around the tip of it, giving it a small suck. In apology, maybe, or maybe just because he wants to. Sucking on Tony's fingers had been hot, and this? This is no different.

* * *

Maybe Peter opened his eyes and moved, but Tony's not a stickler. He's not about to freak out over it. Tony is damn certain that no one has ever spat on Peter before, so it only makes sense that the kid would react like he had. Once more, Tony's unhelpfully reminded just how much he enjoys gifting these first time experiences to Peter. The real kicker is, will he have enough time to do everything that he wants to do? Their metaphorical timer keeps on counting down, not just for tonight, but for their time together on a whole.

But, Tony knows that he wouldn't be drawn to this as much if there _wasn't_ such a reality. Having that pressure of an impending deadline? The rush that comes with knowing that, at any minute, shit could hit the fan? It injects life into Tony, adds cheap thrills, lights up his mind. Nothing lasts forever, so he might as well indulge, and indulging is what Tony is damn good at.

Peter - his sweet, eager boy - steps closer and even goes a step further as Peter's wet lips close around his thumb on their own. Tony gives a soundless, pleased gasp. Like a moth to a flame, Peter can't help but be drawn to him and Tony can't help but burn hotter and brighter. Tony has the deranged thought of drenching them with whiskey and then grabbing a light, letting them both fucking burn up in Tony's fucked up mind--

Lyrics for later, maybe.

"Yeah, that's right," Tony murmurs, voice low and approving. He knows how much Peter gets off on praise. "Showing Daddy just how much you wanna suck his dick." Tony's fingers squeeze Peter's throat. 

"Show me how much you want it." To help, Tony slips out his thumb, replacing it with three fingers instead.

* * *

Peter knows that his eyes are open, and that he'd moved. A part of him is tempted to close them again just to try and pretend like he hadn't messed up there, but Tony doesn't seem angry. Peter even catches Tony's slight gasp when he sucks at Tony's thumb, and he feels a rush of satisfaction in response, because it's still impossibly hot that he can even _make _that happen. 

The praise is sudden and sweet, and Peter feels a quick lance of arousal shoot through him. God, he thinks Tony is hot, and he loves it when Tony dirty talks him or pushes him, but there's something really thrilling about hearing Tony's voice all soft and encouraging. The approval makes Peter want to do even more, makes him want to push himself, and so when Tony continues, his fingers gently squeezing Peter's throat, Peter lets out a tighter, higher moan and strokes his fingers along the inside of Tony's wrist.

"I can-- yeah, I can do that," Peter manages quickly, and when Tony presses three of his fingers into Peter's mouth, Peter shivers. It's almost more embarrassing because he's not _really_ sucking Tony off, but it's arousing still. Peter opens his mouth a little wider and while it takes him a second to figure out how to suck with his mouth open wider, he eventually gets it.

When Tony's fingers are flat next to each other, Peter can suck normally, but when they form a more circular shape, he needs to hollow his cheeks a little in order to do it. It _is_ good practice, is the thing, because aside from really thick milkshakes, Peter's never really had to do this before.

* * *

Tony already wants another drink, but both his hands happen to currently be occupied. Peter's not even had a real drink, just a few drops, but it's not lost on Tony that Peter hadn't been overly thrilled by the notion of drinking, so Tony doesn't feel especially bad over it. They have time… some time, at least. The night is young - like Peter - and there's no reason to be glum.

Even though they're fully clothed, it's still noticeably charged between them. This is what Tony fucking loves, the spark, that gravitational pull, caught in each other's orbit and a spectacular impending collsion on the horizon. 

But tonight, things are uncomplicated and Tony is doing exactly what he wants. Tony feels the vibration and hears just the sweetest sound made when his fingers tighten around Peter's throat. If he was a betting man - and he sometimes is - he'd bet that Peter would enjoy choking on his dick. They'll find out soon though.

It's more of a visual thing - Peter's lips around his fingers, cheeks hollowed. Tony doesn't immediately push, letting Peter adjust and learn. 

"Reminds me of when my fingers were inside you," Tony comments, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Take off my pants."

* * *

It might be a visual thing to Tony, but to Peter, it's actually a learning experience. This isn't actually something that he has any experience with. He's always been careful about what he's done and how he's been seen in public, and the downside of being on YouTube is that his life is already on display every day. So he can't exactly go out and find guys to be with. Eventually it'd all wind up online, so this experience is something that Peter's actually using for a reason.

It's... embarrassing, maybe, in a weird way. Peter is very aware of Tony watching him, and he likes it, but it still makes him feel a little hot and exposed. And when Tony just up and mentions the last time they'd been there, Peter winces a little at the spike of arousal that shoots through him. Fuck. Tony's fingers _had _been inside him, much like this. That is... oddly hot to think about. 

That little push of arousal is enough to make Peter shiver, and maybe he's a little more amenable than before as Tony tells him what to do. Eager to keep Tony talking, Peter makes a small sound as he sucks on Tony's fingers. He reluctantly releases Tony's wrist and reaches out, blindly feeling down Tony's chest until he finds Tony's belt. Swallowing, Peter closes his eyes, undoing the belt by feel alone, and when he slides his hand down to undo Tony's pants, he shudders visibly when his hand passes over Tony's dick.

Peter hastily undoes the button and zipper, and he gives Tony's jeans a small tug, easing them down like Tony had told him to. 

It's easier when Tony tells him what to do.

* * *

They might as well get to it, right? Or at least work toward the so-called reward that Peter apparently wants. Tony's not certain that he's ever anticipated a BJ quite like this before. He doubts that it will be anything amazing - skill wise - but that's fine with him. Tony's already had the best, but he hasn't had Peter Parker's sweet lips wrapped around his dick. That's going to change tonight though and Tony's very much looking forward to the experience.

Peter hastens to comply, hands somewhat blindly reaching to find Tony's belt and work at undoing the clasp. Tony doesn't try and complicate the procedure, he doesn't shove his fingers further down Peter's throat for example, but he also doesn't pull them back. A little struggle builds character after all.

Tony's not surprised that Peter's hand isn't shy in brushing over his dick. Tony hums approvingly and Peter gets back to it, finishing the task and giving a yank to Tony's pants that slowly fall to his knees. Tony's hand gives Peter's throat a little squeeze before he draws away. 

"I think you're a little overdressed for this," Tony comments. While they don't need to be naked, Peter's still fully dressed. Tony slides his fingers out, letting his fingertips trail obvious wetness down Peter's chin. 

He purposely doesn't tell Peter _what _to strip down to. Tony steps out of his jeans and kicks them away, but he doesn't go for his shirt. He's not interested in this being equal.

* * *

It's really hot, freeing Tony from his slacks when he can't see what he's doing. It means that Peter's going by touch alone, and it's a lot to deal with. Like this, head tipped back, sucking on Tony's fingers, Peter's forced to feel, not look, but he finds himself pretty adept at seeing with his hands as Tony gives his throat a small squeeze of reward. It makes Peter's dick twitch, which is... weird. It's very weird. He'll think about that later.

Peter's honestly sorry to lose Tony's fingers when he finally draws them back. Peter doesn't argue as Tony trails his fingers down over Peter's chin, but the instruction that Tony gives him is just vague enough that Peter stills, a small frown on his lips. 

He's breathing harder now, his jeans tented, and it takes him a second to move. When he does, he tentatively goes for his hoodie, lifting it up and over his head to drop to the floor. Tony isn't taking his shirt off, but-- fuck, Peter doesn't know what Tony's expecting him to do. He can tell that Tony had been vague on purpose. Is he supposed to undress completely?

Peter fiddles with the hem of his shirt, warring with himself, but when he makes his choice, he goes for it, slipping his t-shirt off and dropping his hands to his belt. Yeah, the thought of being mostly - if not fully - naked while Tony is still kind of dressed is weird, but Peter doesn't want to get come on his shirt. He unzips his jeans and glances up, sending Tony a curious look.

"Is... this okay? Not too much?"

* * *

Tony is being vague on purpose, but why not? Peter can take it. Peter's taking it right now, puppy dog eyes imploring and Tony knows the kid likes direction - does amazing with direction even - but life isn't always easy. Sometimes there isn't any direction and you just fucking wing it and hope for the best.

Tony pours himself another drink and downs it at Peter pulls off the baggy hoodie. Peter may be pulling off his t-shirt next, but his entire focus is on Tony. And god, Tony lives for that rapt attention, he can tell that Peter's thinking a million things, feeling a million things and they're all because of him.

He's not surprised that Peter stops to check in. With a chuckle, Tony appraises Peter. "Might as well take off your jeans too baby." If Peter doesn't, Tony's afraid the kid might end up tripping over them given the fact that they're now unzipped.

* * *

Maybe it's lame, but having Tony give him a small nudge in the right direction does help. It's not that Peter can't get undressed on his own; he's not that incompetent. It's just that Tony very clearly has a vision about what he wants to see, what he wants Peter to do, and Peter doesn't want to mess that up. 

He'd jerked back when Tony had spat on him before, after all, and he still feels bad about disobeying. So with the reassurance in mind, Peter offers Tony a quick, brighter grin of relief and immediately works on his pants, wiggling them down his hips so that they pool on the floor. He kicks them off and nudges them to the side, and only when he's down to his tented boxers does he really realize that he's basically naked. 

Tony... isn't, but somehow it's kind of hot? Peter bites his lip.

"So... this is-- you're going to let me suck you? Is that what we're doing? Just to double-check?"

* * *

One more drink is effortlessly poured and swallowed down by Tony as the kid brightens at his instruction. Maybe it should be worrisome how quick and happy to obey that Peter is, but it's not a warning sign to Tony. He loves it - lives for it, maybe. Tony may be scum, but at least he's going to look after Peter, he'll ensure that Peter makes it.

A nearly naked Peter Parker is a delicious sight. Tony's not even really touched Peter's dick tonight but there it is, obviously hard and constrained by boxers. Tony, in his own boxers and shirt, makes no move to even the odds. A clothing disparity can be hot after all.

Peter's question, the double-checking- has Tony softly snorting in amusement. He pours a smaller amount of whiskey for Peter and then offers it.

"Be a good boy and drink that,” Tony first says warmly. "And yes, you did good this week and sucking my cock is your reward."

* * *

There's something settling about hearing Tony chuckle, something that makes a bit of the tension in Peter's body drain away. Yeah, okay, so Tony pouring him a drink and asking him to drink it isn't the best thing, because Peter's pretty sure that he's not a huge fan of the taste of whiskey, but it's Tony giving him instruction. Peter doesn't want to disobey that.

Still, even as he takes the whiskey and eyes it speculatively, he can't help the quicker, visceral shudder that works through him at the idea of being able to suck Tony's dick being used as a reward. Peter... honestly doesn't know why the thought makes him hot. Maybe it's where they are now, the memories of this hotel suite, or maybe it's kind of like why he likes the 'Daddy' thing. Who the hell knows? Arousal is weird.

He still tips the glass back though, trying to swallow it before he tastes it. Which is... not really possible. Peter pulls a quick face and coughs, but it's muffled. It's not horrible, and the burn is really nice, but still. Strong.

But Tony had called him a good boy, and... god, okay, Peter's easy or something.

"Thanks, Tony. For the drink. And-- and for the-- for." Peter clears his throat, handing the glass back. "For, uh... letting me try."

* * *

If Tony cared, he could mix a drink for Peter. There's a stash of soda and juice kept in the kitchen for this very thing. Tony could easily concoct something sweeter and easier to down - alcoholic adult juice - but he doesn't feel like babying Peter. Like a good boy, Peter reaches out and takes the offered drink. Tony doesn't take his eyes off of Peter as the kid tries his best to quickly down the whiskey like a shot. 

It's a bit of a lost cause given that it's not in a shot glass, but Peter does well enough. He may cough, but he doesn't gag or spit it out - it's good though for Tony. 

He smiles graciously as Peter actually thanks him for both the drink _and _the opportunity to try to suck him off. Tony takes back the glass and places it back on the bar before reaching for Peter's hand 

"You're welcome." A smirk follows this.

Tony doesn't lead them to the bedroom. While they both would likely be more comfortable there, it's boring. Besides, they've already done shit there. Instead, Tony takes them to the other side of the living room. 

Other than a lamp casting some light in the corner, the room is dark. It's spacious, elegant and Tony doesn't give a fuck about any of it. He walks them to a love seat where, after purposely sitting down in the middle, he drops Peter's hand. Tony spreads his legs, very much aware that he's still in his boxers. What he's more interested in is if Peter will get the point that he's supposed to get down to his knees.

* * *

Peter knows that he hadn't made the best impression there, but Tony doesn't look like he's annoyed that Peter had half-failed at swallowing the drink. As it is, he feels the alcohol burn on the way down, settling hot in his stomach in a way that makes him feel a little more settled. He's not sure if it's all in his head or not but he does feel a little better having Tony's approval.

He doesn't hesitate when Tony leads him further into the living room. He watches, curious, because Peter remembers the way to the bedroom and Tony isn't going there. Instead, he walks over to the love seat and then sits down. Peter has a few seconds to be confused before suddenly understanding dawns.

He's seen this position in porn before, and it is instantly clear what Tony is expecting. Peter feels a rush of heat settle in his cheeks, and a spike of nerves, but he can't pretend that he's not excited too. Wetting his lips quick, he glances at Tony and then makes his choice - though really, how could he have done anything else?

Peter slowly drops down onto his knees between Tony's spread legs, reaching up tentatively to set his hands on Tony's thighs. Peter feels his own dick ache in anticipation and he looks up, offering Tony a small, nervous smile.

"You'll... walk me through it, right? Because I've basically just got porn knowledge here and I don't think that's going to help."

* * *

Not known for his patience, Tony does spectacularly well waiting for Peter to figure this next part out. He doesn't tap his foot or click his tongue in disapproval. Tony also doesn't gesture to the floor or verbally instruct Peter. Peter may be that exquisite mix of naive and eager, but Peter isn't a hopeless dumbass. At least Tony hopes the kids isn't a hopeless dumbass.

Recognition flickering on Peter's face brings with it a satisfaction that Tony lives for. Peter eventually gets his body in working order and Tony remains silent and focused as Peter steps in closer and lowers himself to his knees. 

It's such a pretty picture - Peter on his knees between Tony's spread thighs - and Tony has the impulsive thought to grab his phone and capture it, but no. That shit's risky.

Hesitant hands come to his boxer-clad thighs and Tony's treated to an equally hopeful and nervous smile. Peter's near plea for a 'walk through' is adorable and Tony chuckles. Peter attempting to give him a porn-esque blowjob would undoubtedly be a disaster.

"Step one, take Daddy's cock out," Tony instructs as he leans against the couch's cushion, laying an arm along the back, ever the image of casual confidence.

* * *

Peter doesn't want to try to mimic anything he's seen in porn. He might watch it, and it might be hot, but even he knows that nothing there is realistic. He gags on his toothbrush by accident sometimes, so there's no way some virginal kid can 'accidentally' deep throat his first time, despite what porn has led him to believe. So yeah, he stops and he asks, and he looks at Tony for guidance. As much as Peter would like to just go for it and blow Tony's mind (and his dick) he's not willing to make an idiot out of himself.

So the instruction, while rudimentary, still makes Peter feel a small twist of arousal. He nods, wetting his lips quick, and when he slides his hands up and then lowers the hem of Tony's boxers, Peter tries to ignore the throb of his own arousal. 

Tony's dick is half-hard, but Peter isn't worried about that. Tony is older, and sometimes it takes older guys a little more time. It doesn't make him want to do this any less. Peter gently eases Tony's dick free of his boxers, and when it's finally out in the open, he reaches up, wrapping a hand around it with a lower breath. Fuck, he's wanted to just touch for so long...

"Can't believe this actually fit. I mean... okay, that sounds lame, but seeing it is different than feeling it, you know?"

* * *

It shouldn't be fucking rocket science to give a blowjob, but leave it to Peter Parker to overthink shit. Tony could taunt or scoff at the kid - and maybe he mentally is - but he'll metaphorically hold Peter's hand through this. Tony is Peter's mentor after all. It's really the least he could do.

Tony's had his dick fished out of his jeans, dress pants, boxers many a times, but this is a nearly naked Peter doing it now, so yeah, Tony watches with a smirk as Peter pulls down the band of his boxers. Tony's only half hard because nothing overly exciting has happened yet. He's not worried about it. Honestly, it'll help Peter adjust and then probably feel dorky proud over getting Tony fully hard.

Peter's handling of this is a mix of hesitancy and reverence. Which is weird, but okay. Peter's fingers wrap around his dick and Tony's grin widens 

Then Peter _talks _and Tony can't help but laugh lightly at the comment. "You might've been a tight virgin, but the body accommodates." 

A hand reaches out to brush fingers through Peter's hair. "You were so perfect for me, Pete."

* * *

The weirdest thought that Peter has in that second is that he almost wants to take a picture, because seriously. How many times have he and Tony done something sexual so far where Peter hasn't been able to actually see Tony's dick? It's a stupid impulse, especially because he's not sure if he's got his phone on him to begin with, but it's there, and it's his. Peter can't help but stare at Tony's dick, because even half-hard, it's still impressive, and still makes his own ache with arousal.

Peter doesn't know what kind of answer he's looking for until Tony strokes his hair, voice low and approving. Yeah, hearing 'tight virgin' makes him feel a little hot and squirmy, but the praise goes right through him, all the way to his dick. Peter wets his lips and glances up with a small, nervous smile.

"Yeah? Well... good. It felt amazing, so it's good to know it was, like... good for you, too." Peter glances back down, giving Tony's cock a slow stroke. He swallows. 

"Okay, so... if I do something weird or I'm really bad at this, just don't laugh, okay? Just tell me what to do better."

It's not even a warning, really. Peter just uses it as his own sort of momentum as he leans in and ducks his head. He licks over the tip of Tony's dick, learning the feel and texture and heat of another guy's dick against his tongue.

* * *

God, Peter was so perfect for him that night. His baby boy losing his virginity, such a fucking trooper. Tony's thought about it more than a few times. Hand around his dick, he'll remember how it felt to push his way inside - for Peter's hole to _finally _give in and allow it. And it had hurt a little, sure - why shouldn't the first time hurt? If he could, Tony would like to be an ache in Peter's body that would never abate. That way, he could be with Peter forever.

Peter's all dopey about his praise and Tony smirks, pleased and amused. The kid is really concerned about feedback for some reason... and while it's kind of cute, it's also ridiculous. Tony would rather Peter just give it a go. As long as Peter doesn't gnaw on his dick, anything would be good (at least in theory).

When Peter finally opts to try, he's leaning in and licking against the tip of Tony's cock. 

"Yeah, that's good," Tony enthuses. "Just take your time and lick it. Kiss it if you want." 

If Peter needs him to go slow and hold his hand through it, he can at least half ass it.

* * *

On one hand, Peter kind of hates that he's taking this so slow. It can't feel great for Tony, and he's probably had way better over the years. If this is Peter's first time doing it, he's going to take his time with it, even if he does feel a little guilty. Besides, Tony's praise is low and sweet, and Peter feels it go all the way down to his own dick as he kneels there. 

He takes his time to explore, licking and - when Tony puts the thought in his head - kissing at Tony's cock. It doesn't really taste like anything but skin, which is fine, but the heat of it feels good against Peter's lips. He hums under his breath, softer, appreciative, and bit by bit, he works his way up. Peter kisses a path from the base to the tip, learning the feel of Tony's dick on his terms and it's amazing. It's intimate and Tony doesn't rush him. 

So, when Peter feels like he wants more, he darts a quick look up at Tony (mostly to make sure he doesn't look bored) and then finally parts his lips. Peter leans in, and while Tony's cock still isn't fully hard, the head is still enough to give him a little difficulty. Peter adjusts quickly, remembering not to scrape Tony's cock with his teeth, and when he thinks he's good, he begins to suck, slower, just learning the weight and feel of Tony's dick on his tongue.

* * *

In a way, Tony supposes that teaching Pete to suck dick like a champ would benefit him in the future - assuming that Peter's interest in him continued. Honestly, Tony can't see that changing - at least not for a while. One day Peter will take off his rose colored glasses, or they'll be snatched off, and Peter will see that Tony isn't actually so great. It's either that or after Peter gets thrust into the world of fame, he'll realize that there are nicer and better people out there who would be glad to cozy up to him.

It's inevitable. And Tony's fine with that. Peter deserves a thwack of more experiences and with kids his own age, or least closer. 

But for now, Tony enjoys the almost kittenish licks Peter is giving to his slowly hardening cock. Peter gives the tip just the sweetest of kisses and Tony smiles to himself. Tony can't remember if anyone's ever looked this interested in exploring and working their way around his dick before, but Peter is. Peter's on a fucking quest to lick and kiss and touch and Tony watches, bemused and possibly even impressed. 

Before Peter really gets to it, Peter glances up and Tony gives a quick, encouraging _go ahead_ nod to the kid. Peter's pretty slick lips part for him and then Peter's at it, mouth stretching open to take in the head of Tony's cock. No teeth is a good thing and no gagging... well, Tony likes a bit of gagging, but he'll work Peter up to it. Tony's dick hardens when Peter begins to slowly suck and Tony sighs. 

"There's a good boy," he praises, fingers petting through Peter's hair. "Suck a bit harder - move your head - get Daddy nice and hard for you."

* * *

Peter wonders distantly if it’s weird that he’s really into this. He knows that there are a lot of people who are really into sex, sure, and that some people do like giving head, but this feels completely different than he’d thought it would. Really, when it comes down to it, it’s just a dick. He’s got one, and while Tony’s is bigger than his is, that doesn’t make it anything else. But as Peter feels the weight and heat on his tongue, as he listens to Tony’s sigh and breathes in the scent of sex, he has to admit that this is a big deal. 

He feels his own dick give a twitch of arousal, feels the ache all the way down to his center when he realizes he’s actually sucking Tony Stark’s cock. The mentality of it is as arousing as doing it, and so when Tony pets his fingers through Peter’s hair and then begins to praise and give him instruction, Peter feels a little ridiculous with how badly he wants to make Tony proud of him.

So, he does what he’d been told to do. Peter focuses and sucks a little harder. It takes him a few seconds to get the hang of it, but immediately he feels a flush of arousal. Peter settles his hands on Tony’s hips, squeezing gently. And, taking a deeper breath just in case, Peter begins to move his head. It’s a little awkward because when he takes Tony’s dick in the first time, he takes it just a little too deep and he feels his eyes begin to water. 

He doesn’t really gag, but he does come close. Peter hastily adjusts his position, and when he bobs his head again, it’s smoother and he groans low, able to _feel _Tony’s dick hardening against his tongue.

* * *

Tony may be on the receiving end here, but he knows first hand the thrill of giving someone pleasure with your own mouth. He doubts very much that Peter is getting off on the idea of being in control of giving pleasure. Likely the kid is just revelling over the fact that he's got the chance to slob on the great Tony Stark's knob. Peter is far too earnest for anything but that. It's pretty cute.

Obviously for Tony he likes getting his partners thighs to quiver, he likes teasing and working them up. He enjoys pulling out curses and praise from his oral pursuits. 

Peter is still familiarizing himself, but they don't have all night. Thankfully the kid takes the instructions to heart and pushes himself a little. Tony can't help but groan when Peter takes him deeper. Not enough to gag - not yet - but it's something. Peter's eyes are a little wet from the endeavor, but it's beautiful. 

"Now, don't be scared, baby," Tony begins as his fingers tighten in Peter's hair. "Bit of gagging is okay." That stated, Tony wastes no time in pulling Peter's head down. When he feels that first delicious spasm of Peter's throat protesting, he doesn't let up. Tony also doesn't thrust further. He just holds Peter there for a few seconds longer before allowing him back up.

* * *

Peter feels amazing about this. It's hot, having Tony's dick hardening against his tongue, being able to taste him like this. Peter already knows that he's not going to forget this. Even if his jaw is getting a little sore being open, it's not nearly bad enough to do anything about. He feels too good like this, on his knees, with Tony's dick heavy on his tongue. And listening to Tony's groan is like the best thing in the world. Knowing that Peter had caused it.

But then fingers tangle in Peter's hair, and Tony speaks up, lower, cajoling, coaxing, and Peter glances up at him. He feels a little flicker of apprehension, because no one really _likes _gagging, but before he can really worry about it, Tony nudges his hips forwards and then pulls Peter down by his hair. He pulls Peter down until his cock slides in deeper, deep enough that Peter can't help a small sound of negation. He gags when Tony's dick nudges the back of his throat, his eyes watering, but to Peter's mutual surprise and uncertainty, Tony doesn't draw back.

Instead, he holds Peter there, and Peter struggles to figure out what to do. It's an effective crash course, and it's only when he fights his body's natural urge to gag again and swallows instead that the urge fades. Tony draws back then and Peter leans back enough to drag in a rougher, wet breath. He coughs once, but his dick is rock hard between his legs. He feels good. 

"S-sorry, sorry, I can do it again," he manages, and means it. "Just let me try?"

* * *

There is an instinctual struggle, but surprisingly Peter, for the most part, takes it like a champ. The experience of gagging isn't inherently enjoyable - at least not for the one doing the gagging - but there's something so visceral about it that Tony enjoys. It's primal and real; one can't fake it - at least not well. Tony's been on the receiving end enough times, but usually he's the one that willingly gags himself. The urge to show Peter, to remind Peter how good it can be is there, but Peter's catching his breath and coughing and Tony's admiring the disheveled look on his boy. 

Peter looks like this because of him. Peter's sputtering because of him. 

Peter apologizes. Taken back, Tony's eyes squint minutely. Peter also offers to do it again, to try because Peter is still ever eager to please him. A deeply possessive feeling surges through Tony and he wets his bottom lip, considering. He fights back his own impulses to change things up, to do what he wants because that's usually how things go... but Peter wants to do this. It's fine. Tony's fingers stroke through Peter's soft hair and he smiles.

"Of course you can try again," Tony murmurs, encouraging. "It might not feel great, but you're making _me _feel amazing. Look how hard you've got me."

* * *

Gagging doesn't really feel good, but in a weird, visceral way, it kind of does? Peter's never really connected that sensation to _sex_ before, mostly because he's never _done_ this before. Whenever he'd gagged in the past, he'd been sick, or not feeling good. But there's something kind of weirdly hot about that sensation and then hearing Tony groan like he does. Knowing that momentary discomfort is making Tony feel good is _hot_. 

So Peter looks up at him, determined, his own cock straining and hard, and when he glances down at Tony's dick and sees just _how_ much harder it looks than before, Peter feels another rush of satisfaction. He wets his lips, quick. Tony's encouragement helps, and so when Peter nods and then steadily takes Tony's cock back into his mouth, he's more focused this time. He tracks the sensation, finding the exact point where his eyes begin to water. And, with a small breath, Peter pushes himself past that point.

This time, while he _does_ gag again, he struggles to swallow. It takes him two tries and finding a bit of a breathing pattern, but when he swallows again, he feels the head of Tony's cock slide past his throat. It sends an immediate jolt of satisfaction through him, even as his body struggles to adjust. 

* * *

Little breaks, sprinkle in some praise, a dash of encouragement - that's what Peter Parker needs to forge ahead here. Given Tony's role as judge and mentor on the show, he can't claim that he's at all surprised by this, but is he disappointed? 

Maybe. Maybe not. Tony knows that he can be guilty of wanting what he's currently not getting. A docile partner? He'd want them pushy. Someone acting too innocent? He'd wonder about them being slutty. It's human nature to do the grass is greener on the other side thing. 

But how Peter is isn't news to Tony and Peter's innocence isn't cloying or fake. Peter's been embarrassed and concerned about his inexperience, but he's been willing to try and ask and take advice. That kind of attitude is commendable in today's youth. 

A nod later and Peter's back at it. Tony watches Peter work himself down slowly, inch by inch his cock disappearing past pretty lips. This time, Tony doesn't push Peter. Peter pushes himself and when Peter's throat reliably spasms again, Peter doesn't struggle to stop it. 

Tony sits up more, growing increasingly interested, his fingers tightening in Peter's hair. Peter pushing himself is a beautiful sight and it's an even better feeling. Wet, hot, tight--

Tony shoves his hips forward while his other hand reaches to loosely wrap around Peter's throat. Tony's thick cock pushes its way further down Peter's throat and he pointedly restrains the kid. Both his cock and hand against Peter can feel Peter choking on his dick and Tony groans. He does let up when it's necessary.

* * *

Peter isn't ready when Tony takes over, and it probably shows. The small, shocked sound he makes is almost immediately cut off as Tony jerks his hips forward, and while a thread of panic does spike quick and sharp in Peter's chest, he immediately struggles to adjust. It's a _lot_ to handle, the push of Tony's dick down his throat, the sudden inability to breathe. Peter's hands drop to Tony's thighs and grab there, but he doesn't shove or try to pull off.

Instead Peter struggles to adjust. His eyes water, his jaw aches, and his throat stings, but somehow under all of it, it still makes him feel hot. He takes it, saliva dripping down his chin, and when he remembers to swallow around Tony's cock, some of the instinctive _wrong_ fades away. Then Tony's hand comes to his throat. 

Peter has the sudden realization that Tony's touching himself _through_ Peter's throat, and he shudders, feeling a bit lightheaded and hot, his own cock aching in his boxers. Somehow not being able to breathe makes him feel the arousal that much more. Somewhat impossibly, he almost thinks he could get off like that, but before he can test it, Tony draws back and Peter immediately pulls away, coughing and dragging in deep, rougher breaths. 

He swallows a few times, wincing, but he feels a little reckless with determination. So, when he feels like he's recovered enough, Peter takes Tony's cock back into his mouth again but waits for Tony to show him what he wants. 

He feels... good, he thinks. Really good. This is still weirdly hot. 

* * *

They've had a conversation about this - at least Tony thinks that they have. Maybe over the phone? Tony is pretty sure he mentioned something about choking Peter on his cock and that not breathing for a little while was totally okay. Even so, he hasn't explicitly brought it up _tonight_ and pushing Peter could be a risk that might backfire.

Does Tony care? No, not in this moment, at least. Either Peter will tolerate or like it, or he won't. If Peter doesn't, Tony's more than confident that he can deal with and diffuse any of Peter's possible accusations. He'd gather the kid up, give him a cuddle, make some excuses and kiss away any of Peter's protests. Easy peasy. 

He's honestly expecting things to go that way and maybe it'd be a bit disappointing, but there's other things Tony wants. He can adapt.

But it's not what happens. After Peter coughs and works hard at catching his breath and calming down, Peter doesn't flip the fuck out. Tony watches with interested eyes but when Peter feels pulled back together, Peter doesn't complain or accuse or back out. 

Peter goes _back in_, proving how determined or hopeful or deviant he really is - who's Tony to say? One side of Tony's mouth quirks. 

"I wonder..." Tony muses lowly. "If I reached down between your legs and slid my hand into your boxers, would you be rock hard, Peter?" Tony licks his lips. He knows the answer. "I'm gonna fuck that sweet mouth of yours until I come because I know that's what you want. You want me to get off. _You _want to get _me _off." 

And Tony sits up, his hold remaining in Peter's hair as he eases himself into a standing position. Peter adjusts accordingly, sliding back on the floor to create space.

And then Tony gets to it.

* * *

Peter could complain. He considers it in passing, but when it comes down to it, Tony _had_ mentioned something like this before. Peter remembers having that conversation, remembers Tony talking about choking him on his cock. When it comes down to it, Tony had warned him about this, and even if Peter's throat feels a little sore and even if he does feel breathless, he _really_ wants this. 

He's never _really_ fantasized about sucking dick before, but those few moments where he'd allowed himself to, it had always been either a random, faceless experience, or it had been Tony. The thought of getting Tony off like this makes Peter feel hot, and so when he takes Tony's dick back into his mouth and looks up at him, Peter feels another frisson of pleasure as Tony smirks down at him, and it only gets worse when Tony _talks_.

Because Peter _is_ rock hard. Hell, Tony touching him might be enough to make him come. But the thought of Tony getting off, of fucking Peter's mouth until _Peter_ makes him come? There's nothing hotter than the thought of that. And when Tony stands up and Peter shuffles back a bit, he has to add in that there's nothing hotter than the _act_.

Tony doesn't treat him like he's a virgin. He doesn't take his time and rock his hips carefully. He braces his hand in Peter's hair and moves him the way Tony wants him to be. The first thrust into his mouth does make Peter gag, but it doesn't take him long to figure out how to adjust to each thrust. He fights with it, tries to find a position that's comfortable, but when he _does?_ When Tony's fingers are in his hair and he starts fucking Peter's mouth in earnest? Peter feels something molten and hot settle in his stomach.

He groans, hips rocking forward against nothing as he sucks, feeling each pass of Tony's dick into his mouth. He feels a little drunk on it, on the way Tony pets his hair, and on the way that Tony looks and sounds. Peter sucks, throwing himself into it, letting Tony lead him, and he reaches up, wrapping his hand around Tony's cock to stroke what he can't reach. 

* * *

Blowjobs usually rank lower than actual fucking - because it's phenomenal to slip into someone's body and feel them from the inside - but right now Tony thinks this here might be the hottest thing he's done with Peter (and that's saying something). They have a growing list of erotic experiences and each experience is uniquely different and meaningful, but _this_? This is the first time Tony suspects that they're on the same wavelength.

Peter's throat may protest, but Peter wants this. Peter's caught up in this, invested in him, dick straining in his boxers. Tony doesn't even have to check. He knows. He knows that Peter is so fucking into this and hard.

They _are_ connected, that final winning piece slotting into the correct place in the game Connect Four. Peter sees the real him and maybe it seems like Tony is the one coercing or leading Peter, but Peter's _into_ it. Peter's so into it that it'd be a crime to stop now. So Tony doesn't stop and Peter doesn't stop him. 

The obscene face fucking sounds don't dominant, almost fading pleasantly into the background for Tony. Peter's pretty mouth is enthusiastic and eager to provide a sloppy wet home, welcoming his thick cock again and again with each aggressive thrust Tony makes. 

Oh yes, Tony hears that groan against his dick and he sees the cute little futile movement that Peter's hips take, seeking friction of some kind. It's an indulgence of shamelessness and for once Tony isn't alone. 

He fucks Peter's face, fingers tight in Peter's hair even though Peter isn't making a break to get away. A stream of praise, combinations of _good boy _and _perfect _and_ slut _and_ baby _fall from Tony's mouth. His arousal climbs and Tony's eyes don't look away from Peter. He can't. When Peter's hand lifts to provide just a bit more stimulation, Tony fucks into Peter's mouth harder as if in reward.

When Tony comes, he shoves his cock further in and holds it there, gagging Peter as he unloads with a bitten off moan. He has the strange thought that if he could, he'd mark Peter up with his come. He'd claim him.

* * *

Peter hasn't ever been high before, but as Tony thrusts into his mouth with selfish abandon, he thinks it must be something like this. Logic says that it might have something to do with the lack of oxygen, or the alcohol, or maybe how focused he is on making sure to hold his head just right and take Tony in deep, but Peter thinks it has more to do with _Tony_. 

It's not at all one of the most comfortable experiences of his life; his jaw aches and his throat hurts, and Tony's grip in his hair is tight, but Peter's never felt more connected with anyone than he feels now. And Tony had _fucked_ him before.

But this? This is way more. This is Peter drinking in Tony's praises and slurs like they're payment, and this is Peter managing to do something right in a big way. Tony's into it, and the steady glide of his dick is impossibly hot even if Peter can't explain _why_. It just is.

It's _really_ good, and Peter knows that he'll be asking for this again later. He feels amazing despite the discomfort, and even when Tony thrusts in harder and Peter can't help the small gag and the way his eyes water more, it's still enough to make him want more. Which is probably a good thing, because Tony fucks harder and faster. He feels Tony's dick throb against his tongue, but Peter doesn't know what that means until Tony bites back a moan and then suddenly snaps his hips forward.

It's... a lot, but in a good way. Peter definitely gags, surprised by the sudden intrusion again, but this time is different. This time he can _feel_ Tony's cock pulse, can feel heat and wet, and when he swallows, he actually does swallow something. The knowledge makes him whine, his dick throbbing, but Peter focuses in on the feeling. 

The knowledge that he'd just made Tony come is worth feeling lightheaded, and Peter does his best to last it out. He _almost_ makes it, but even though he does have to tap out (Tony thankfully lets him) Tony doesn't look disappointed.

Peter pulls back with a cough, wetter, and the taste on his tongue is kind of gross, but he's too thrilled with himself to _really_ care. He swallows until he feels like he can breathe, and then looks up at Tony with a dazed smile, leaning in to rest his cheek against Tony's thigh. 

"I did it," he says, or _tries_ to, but his voice comes out rougher. Peter clears his throat, but when he tries again, the words are there, satisfied and awed and thrilled. "God, that was so hot."

* * *

The rush of pleasure and satisfaction is beyond sublime. Orgasms always feel good - at least at the moment. Sometimes that high is short-lived when Tony glances down and sees just who he's with and his partner has a dumb or annoying expression on their face. The allure of desire and want can vanish just as easily as it takes hold of Tony.

If he's paying for sex, there's no obligation for him to return the favor which can be nice. Escorts, whores... Nothing wrong with sex work and Tony pays well. He doesn't employ just high end either, sometimes he blesses those who actually _are _in need - just because he can.

There can be an appeal in pleasing your current bed warmer - as long as Tony is interested and _wants _to. Oh, he's well aware that he fits in that box labeled _control freak, _but why shouldn't he be in control of himself and do what he wants, when he wants? One life to live and all and Tony's going to make sure that he enjoys it.

The world isn't fair and things aren't always reciprocal. Them messing around had started with Tony taking what he wanted and when he wanted. Tony had delighted in working Peter up and getting the kid off. All on his terms. Peter's been wanting to take a more active role, to get _him_ off. Tony had allowed Peter to use his hands in his Escalade and now this. The blowjob-as-a-reward...

Tony's had countless people use their mouths on him, but this is different. The moment is charged because Peter fucking _whines_ when he comes. Face full of cock and Tony can tell that Peter is absolutely thrilled by it. Peter does eventually tap out - a frantic hand lifting to tap on Tony's arm - and Tony immediately eases his grip on Peter's hair and pulls his cock out. On shakier legs than he'd like to admit, Tony's pulse and breathing slows down as he stares at Peter. 

Peter smiles at him - wet eyes, cheeks flushed, lips slick and swollen - and it's gorgeous. Better than any perfectly put together celeb on the red carpet. Peter practically nuzzles at his thigh and Tony is directionless, his hands shaking at his sides as Peter roughly speaks sounding triumphant and wrecked. Tony does reel himself back in. 

He tucks his spent dick into his boxers before he hoists Peter back up. Before Peter can move away or start rambling, Tony pulls the kid in against him, wrapping him into a tight hug. He can easily feel how hard Peter is and, as usual, it's awesome to be right. 

But Tony doesn't focus on that, he buries his face into Peter's sweaty hair and murmurs, "You're gonna fuck me up so bad, Pete. I know it." 

It's muffled, but it's not really for Peter to hear. 

* * *

It takes Tony a few seconds to tuck himself away, and Peter obediently moves his hand. He feels... good. Really good. He feels buzzed in the best way possible, and even if his dick is hard and he feels like he could come at a touch, there's something way more than that inside of him now. Yeah, on the surface, he'd just sucked Tony off, but that's just simplifying it. 

Tony had _let_ him. Tony had connected with him, had trusted Peter enough to take it, and had let Peter be the one to get _him_ off. It hadn't been Tony getting off using Peter's mouth. It had been Peter being allowed to get Tony off. There's a difference, and as Peter kneels there, feeling flushed and _ridiculously_ pleased with himself, he thinks that maybe this whole hotel thing has been different.

Before Peter can think too much on it, Tony's hands reach down under his arms. Peter snaps back to it, letting Tony help him back up onto his feet. A part of him distantly wonders if Tony's going to shove him away, but before he can dwell on it, Tony suddenly reaches out and pulls him into a hug.

Peter freezes, though he doesn't tense up. He's too loose and satisfied to tense up, but he _is_ shocked. Tony doesn't give him a _guy hug_. There's no one-armed pat, no bravado, no dismissal. Tony pulls Peter into a _good_ hug, the kind that screams of warmth and safety and gratitude. It's... new. Tony's never done it like this before, but as soon as Peter realizes it's really happening, he sinks into it with a soft exhale, winding his arms around Tony in response.

He's still hard, and he _could_ ask Tony to get him off, but suddenly that seems so unimportant. He closes his eyes and drinks in the feeling of being held, feeling warm with praise. 

"Feeling's mutual," Peter murmurs back, breathing in the scent of Tony's cologne. "Thanks, Tony. For letting me do that."


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D

* * *

* * *

Something's changed and Tony knows it. After he drops Peter off, he has the urge to text the kid immediately. To say what though?_ Great hoovering skills? I had a great night? _

Nope. Tony forces himself to drive away. With his window down and an arm draped on the frame, he speeds and enjoys the wind in his hair as the radio blares. It's only when Tony arrives back at his place that he texts Peter good night and for him to drink lots of fluids and tea and shit like that to help with his throat. In hindsight, it's probably not the best thing for Tony to have fucked Peter's throat in terms of the competition, but Tony isn't exactly known for restraint.

And Peter had loved it. Fucking _loved_ being involved and giving himself up to please Tony and get him off. Peter's bright, wet eyes swim in Tony's mind. He remembers how perfectly slutty and eager his baby boy had been for him, and at 3 in the morning, Tony jerks himself off again. When he finally sleeps that night, _he's _the mess and he doesn't care. 

Over the next few days, Tony texts Peter more. Mostly the same stuff - the competition, flirting, sexting - but a few questions are sprinkled in between. Insignificant things like Peter's favorite food or movies. Peter keeps texting him back and even asks a few questions of his own. Tony actually watches Peter's YouTube videos more closely, paying attention to shit that he never paid attention to before like stuff Peter's _said_. He's on a mission to figure out this kid, to get to know him better. It's a hunger that Tony keeps indulging, the fat kid at an all-you-can-eat buffet. 

As far as the show and filming goes, it actually gets difficult for Tony - or at least _more _difficult. Oh, he does fine and Peter does too. No one knows, no one suspects. There's an unhappy restlessness at wanting and waiting to get closer to Peter. 

So when Tony finally gets the chance, he pounces. It'll be harder to find time with the semi-finale on the horizon, but there's nothing to be done about it. Tony flashes a smile and excuses Peter and himself away. They're done filming their blurbs and given that Peter's his only remaining contestant, it's not favoritism anymore. With a paternal hand on Peter's lower back, he leads the kid to his personal dressing room. 

Not that Peter has much time to take any sights in because as soon as they're in the room, Peter is shoved against the door while Tony reaches around to lock it. 

But he doesn't immediately press in closer (although he fucking wants to). Tony eyes Peter up before licking his lips.

"Missed me?" He asks. "Because I've missed you."

* * *

Peter's not sure _what's_ changed, but as the next few weeks pass in a blur, he really likes it. It's nothing obvious at first. He doesn't even notice it. But when he's texting Tony about his favorite movies at midnight a few days after the whole sucking him off thing, Peter pauses and realizes that they don't usually talk like this. He can't _check_, because he does still delete Tony's messages like Tony had asked him to all the way at the beginning, but he's pretty sure this is a new development.

At first, Peter wonders if it _means_ something, but before he can entertain the idea, he reminds himself that Tony had stressed that this was just a sex thing when Peter had woken up to that image of Tony and the woman plastered all over the internet. It's not like Peter had assumed otherwise - and he doesn't now - but he does let himself wonder before he slams the door on that thought.

The other one is what Tony had _said_ that night. Peter's not really sure what Tony had meant, and at the time, Peter had been too high on life to even pick it apart. Tony had claimed that Peter would fuck him up, and despite worrying at it for awhile, Peter still doesn't have any answers.

To his consternation, he doesn't have a lot of time to figure it out. The competition - which had been steadily growing in intensity - suddenly _explodes_ with it when they get down to the last few contestants. Peter doesn't see Tony privately nearly enough, then. His world is focused on impromptu interviews, on preparation, and on the knowledge that he might actually be able to _do_ this. It's a whirlwind of excitement and stress, but Peter does love it. 

He and Tony still meet up to rehearse, and they still text, but there isn't much more that happens. 

At least until the announcement of the semi-finale. Even hours after the announcement, Peter still feels numb and giddy at the same time. He does his interviews, he answers questions, but when Tony excuses the both of them to Peter's dressing room (and it's so damn _cool_ that he _has _one of those!) Peter eagerly gets up and lets Tony lead him. He's got so much to say and no time to say it, but the _second_ that they step into the room, Peter looks around, opens his mouth-- and then suddenly he's up against the door and something hot and excited surges inside of him.

He honestly expects Tony to kiss him, or to press a thigh between his legs, or _something_. So when Tony just looks him over and wets his lips like he's into what he sees, Peter feels heat rush through him, as well as a small twist of confusion. Talking isn't usually a _thing_ first. But that doesn't mean that he's not into it. Besides, Tony asks an easy question.

"Yeah," Peter breathes, looking Tony over once before glancing at his lips. He swallows. "Yeah, absolutely, yes. Feels like it's been _forever_ since I even got to talk to you in person without cameras."

* * *

Since the show's begun, Peter's overall look hasn't changed - just a sharper hair cut really. The producer's were apparently a fan of the boy=next-door look. Tony's seen the kid in fitted jeans and a variety of respectful shirts with collars and buttons and shit. But Peter does, on occasion, wear sweatpants with band and music pun tee shirts which Tony thinks is more appropriate. This time, Peter's shirt is a nicely-fitting _Vixen_ shirt and Tony's been itching to comment about it for the entire morning.

The fact that he's fixated on a damn tee shirt is probably because they haven't been able to hook up since the hotel. They still have gotten off via text messages and talk, but it's not the same. Tony's aware that he could have easily found someone willing and interesting enough... He just hasn't. Someone else would have either been a substitute for Peter or a shitty distraction. It's not who and what Tony wants. 

Peter's permeated his mind, a brilliant stain across the white-grey-whatever matter of his brain. He's been a_ltered _like some biological experiment and he's not even sure of the final result. But Tony's high is still high and he'll rein himself in if it means he gets to continue chasing after Peter. 

"Maybe not _forever_," Tony begins, chagrined. "But definitely far too long." He steps closer and his hands smooth down Peter's surprisingly fit chest, down his stomach before he hooks his fingers in the belt loops of Peter's jeans. "I like seeing you in my merch."

* * *

It's not like it's been an eternity, but Peter's pretty sure that at this point, he's been conditioned to respond to Tony in a certain way. There's something about his casual, dismissive confidence that _still_ does it for Peter even now. And yeah, maybe he's been a little worried that the reason they haven't done anything else was because the night at the hotel might have fallen short or something. He probably hadn't been _great_ at the whole blowjob thing. But if Tony's cornering him now, Peter's hopeful that maybe he's still interested.

When Tony steps in closer, Peter looks him over again, lingering. He drinks in the sight now that no cameras are watching him - the sharp line of Tony's jaw, the closely-trimmed facial hair, the strength in his hands and the broadness of his shoulders - all of it. And so when Tony's hands smooth down his chest, Peter swallows. By the time that Tony's fingers hook into his belt loops, Peter's dick is definitely starting to take an interest. It's still a little embarrassing, but Tony doesn't seem to mind.

"What?" Peter asks, initially confused when Tony mentions his _merch_, but when Peter glances down and sees his shirt, he immediately grins, sheepish. "Oh-- oh, right, yeah. That's- I forgot I was wearing it. But it's one of my favorite shirts. I've got a bunch of your stuff back at home, and--"

Peter pauses. Is that creepy? Or is it just lame? He makes a small face, as though to tell Tony that he is _fully_ aware of being weird. "Uh. Okay, forget I said that. But um... I'm glad you like it. Just felt like it fit, you know? Seeing as you're just _my_ mentor now."

* * *

Technically it's not _his_ merch - it's the band's - but everyone knows what happened to Vixen _after_ Tony left (or got kicked out). _He_ was more or less the band. He's also the only one who's had a successful _anything _after it, too. Hah! Not that there's actually sour feelings between the guys and him. That shit's cooled. At least Tony thinks it has, but he's really only in contact with their drummer - Happy - so he mostly hears news through the grapevine. 

Peter isn't the first contestant to be caught wearing one of his shirts. Never on actual live shows or anything because that'd be in poor taste and the contestants don't actually get to pick what they wear anyway. Tony's pretty sure that he's seen Peter wear his shit before, but he hadn't really been paying much attention.

At least not like he is now because it _has _been far too long since they've been alone.

Tony knows the reaction he'll get by being this close and having his fingers hooked in Peter's belt loops and it's exactly the reaction he wants. Peter launches into an adorable babblemania about having _a bunch _of fan memorabilia or something back home and Tony is fucking charmed - especially when Peter seems to realize what he's done and stops himself, embarrassed.

"Why would I forget you said that?" Tony teases in a lower murmur. "I _like_ knowing that my face and name are all around you." He smirks as he leans in closer, _almost _brushing a kiss to Peter's lips. "And you're absolutely right. I'm all yours."

Meaning that Peter's his only hopeful contestant for winning, right? 

* * *

Peter's torn between the desire to basically melt through the floor, and the desire to beam a little, because despite what he'd just admitted to, Tony _looks_ pleased. There's no judgment in his eyes, which helps. He looks at Peter like he's amused, sure, but he usually does that so Peter tentatively lets some of his mortification ease away.

_Especially_ when Tony steps in closer and leans in. So sue him, yeah, they've been intimate before, and yeah, maybe some of the novelty should have worn off, but this is still _Tony Stark_. It's been too long, and Peter feels his pulse skip hard in his chest as Tony smirks and leans in, so close that Peter feels an acute pang of _want_. He swallows, wetting his lips, and guiltily lets himself bask in the scent of Tony's cologne. He can do that.

But Tony claiming to be _all his?_ Peter feels a different flicker of something in his chest, something satisfied and a little possessive. 

"You-- yeah. Yeah, I guess you kind of are," Peter breathes. He inwardly battles with himself for a second, but in the end, it really has been too long. He leans in, closing the distance and stealing a quick kiss, even if he doesn't know if he's allowed. "But um... good. These are kind of my comfy shirts, so I'm glad it doesn't weird you out."

* * *

It's not as if Tony wanted any of his other solo male acts to actually make it. He'd rather have a female or group win if Peter hadn't lasted, but now that Peter _is_ getting closer and closer to winning the whole thing, Tony can practically taste victory and victory is finger-lickin' good. He practically deserves it too. The show's ratings are up from last year and what's different? Could it be Tony Stark joining the panel of the judges? Yup.

Peter smells faintly of typical men's deodorant. Peter likely doesn't own any cologne, but Tony could change that. Peter smelling how Tony wants him to smell... Not _like _Tony, but in his image. Inspired by Tony. Approved by Tony. Something to think about later because he _has _Peter right here, right now.

And Peter reminds him of that fact by pecking a light kiss on his lips. Before, Peter taking action without his instruction? It could get on Tony's nerves, but now? Tony appreciates the spunk. 

"It might be comfy, but I'm pretty sure you'll still be comfortable _without_ it on," Tony suggests. Before Peter can reply, Tony's tongue is flicking at Peter's bottom lip before brushing a light kiss there. Yeah, he's missed this. "You take yours off and I'll take mine off. Deal?" Tony leans away, his fingers uncurling from Peter's belt loops.

* * *

Peter knows that he's taking a bit of a risk in kissing Tony without asking first, or without being told to, but even as he does it, he knows it feels right to _him_. It's been way too long since he and Tony have caught a few moments alone together, and as hot as the sexting has been, it's not the same. Besides, this is still a competition, and the past few weeks have been spent working on the actual performances. Tony's still Peter's actual mentor, after all, and Tony's apparently been doing a good job.

But there's something about the way that Tony just so smoothly answers him that has Peter aching. He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, Tony leans in, tongue teasing Peter's bottom lip, and brushing a kiss over it. It's something so small but Peter leans in a little, chasing it almost subconsciously even as Tony draws away. He does rein himself back in, but absently.

And, really, the moment that Tony offers that little quid-pro-quo? Peter wets his lips, quick and eager, and nods. He steps away from the door just enough to reach down, and after untucking his shirt from his pants, Peter works his shirt up and over his head. He tosses it to the side, his hair a little mussed, and when he looks at Tony, there's something expectant in his eyes.

"Your turn. Right? Please?"

* * *

It's not an order and it's not Tony just helping himself to rip off Peter's shirt either. Oh, Tony _could_. Peter wouldn't have stopped him, but this is fun. It's new. And there's nothing wrong with a bit of new fun. 

It might not be an order, but Peter jumps to it, hands quick to slip off the Vixen tee shirt. It's discarded without a thought and revealed to Tony is the smooth expanse of Peter's torso. Two cute nipples, delicate collarbones, lean but defined musculature. Just lovely. Tony's eyes greedily appreciate the sight. There may be numerous videos of Peter available online, but Peter's not undressed in them. 

And this is for Tony. _All_ for him. 

Tony's appreciation is interrupted by Peter's prompt. Fair's fair. Time to match Peter. Tony smiles and graciously inclines his head in a little nod of acknowledgment. He steps back in order to allow him more because why not undress with some flourish? With intention, he sways from side to side as he unbuttons his silk shirt. Once it's parted, Tony offers Peter a wink as he shrugs off the shirt and it falls to the floor. 

"We're gonna try something new, Pete," Tony says. "Your turn to pin me to the door." 

* * *

There's something in the back of Peter's mind that keeps insisting that this is _different_ but Peter isn't sure how, or why. Yeah, this is pretty standard - Tony pinning him to something, teasing him and pushing him, and basically blowing his mind - but there's something else under it too. Peter's not sure what it is, or if he's even sure there _is_ something, but when Tony steps back and begins to gently sway from side to side, Peter's left blinking.

_This_ is new, not that Peter's complaining. Tony moves like he's aiming to tease, to get Peter to look at _only_ him, and Peter feels caught as Tony slowly unbuttons his shirt. By the time it's open, revealing a broad, strong chest and the long line of Tony's torso, Peter's mouth feels a little dry, his pulse quicker, and arousal definitely licking through him.

Peter's not expecting what Tony _says_, though, and at first Peter's sure he's heard wrong. He looks up sharply, surprised, and even as he makes a small move to obey, he hesitates, because... well. Tony's _never_ let him do that before.

"Um... if you're-- okay, if you're sure," Peter says hesitantly, though given the way his breathing picks up, he likes it. And, with a tentative step, Peter watches Tony as he reaches up and sets his hands on bare shoulders. Tony works with him, stepping around, and when Peter presses Tony back up against the door, there's no pretending that he isn't hard. He swallows, stepping in closer.

"Like... like this? Is this okay? It's not too weird, is it?" Peter asks, nerves clearly buzzing under his skin. 

* * *

Purposely, Tony doesn't give Peter step-by-step directions. After all, Peter's been pinned by him enough. Now all he has to do is act in the reverse. It's taking the role of the aggressor. Maybe it's unfair to suddenly hoist this upon Peter, but how will Peter know if he likes or doesn't like something unless he tries? Previously, Tony would have claimed this to be offering a service, but as much as it's providing a learning experience, it's also because Tony wants it. 

Tony may like being in control, but he also likes choosing when _not_ to be. Being pushed around and man handled? It holds an appeal. Not all the time, no, but certainly every once in a while. Chasing after highs is Tony's speciality after all, and there is a unique mix of feelings at being treated roughly and being on the receiving end.

Peter may hesitate but he doesn't stumble and bumble around. It's not necessarily hot and aggressive, but Peter isn't exactly bulky to be able throw Tony around (although Tony suspects that there's some hidden strength there because Parker is fit). Tony's more... _arranged_ and _positioned_ to be pinned, but it's a start. It's still Peter doing it. As his back presses against the door, Tony is getting hard himself. Peter's arousal is more evident _and_ reassuring.

Tony's arms loop around Peter's waist and he tugs Peter closer, his legs speeding to allow Peter to crowd in. "Would I really tell you to do something if I knew I didn't like it?" Tony suggests as his hands rub encouragingly at Peter's back. "It's you and me, why wouldn't it be okay?"

* * *

Peter's pulse pounds loudly in his ears as he stands there, hardly able to believe what's happening. Tony looks _good_ pressed up against the door, but Peter can't help but wonder if this is just another game. It's been too long since the last time they'd been together and he feels impossibly wired and like he wants everything all at the same time. The urge to ask to drop to his knees is as strong as his desire to ask Tony to take over and just _show_ him what he wants, but this sudden role-reversal has changed things. 

Tony jerks him in closer, his legs spread, and Peter gasps lowly at the press of his dick against Tony's. He feels suddenly hot and flushed, because this isn't a position that Tony has ever allowed Peter to be in before. He feels a little overwhelmed, but also like he wants to follow this through to whatever ending it might have. And when Tony's hands settle on Peter's waist, Peter swallows and offers a tentative smile.

"I don't... I don't know. You've just never let-- we've never done this, uh, this way before," Peter says, and as he speaks, he strokes his hands down Tony's shoulders, quietly amazed that he's getting to actually touch and explore a bit. He trails his fingertips down Tony's biceps, all the way down his arms until he reaches Tony's wrists, and then strokes his hands back up. 

Then, as though still _positive_ that this is a trick, Peter tentatively presses against Tony's shoulders until he's actually putting his weight into it, effectively pinning Tony in place. Peter's cock throbs between his legs, and he lets out a softer, shuddering breath.

"Oh, wow. You're actually... you're serious. Um... Can I-- Can I kiss you? I missed you. I mean," Peter hastens to add, "I know I've seen you every day, but we haven't been _alone_ in awhile, and it's just felt like _forever_, and I just... missed this."

* * *

This is a different direction then Tony's taken before and Peter's left slightly floundering. Tony gets it. Thus far it's been _Tony _doing all the pinning, it's been him calling the shots and instructing Peter and of course, there's nothing wrong with how things have been going, but...

There's a _but_. Tony wants more. He wants more from _Peter _in specific. Tony hadn't necessarily been interested in pursuing this a month ago, but witnessing Peter's debauched delight in their last hedonistic hotel stay, Tony's curiosity has been lit. Peter apparently leans toward enjoying masochism and submissiveness, but that doesn't mean that that's all Peter is into. _Preferences _are a thing but they don't need to be rigid. 

If Peter is _really_ into pleasing him, Tony wants to see if he can push in this as well. Tony's done a lot of pushing over these months - pushing Peter with the dirty talk, pushing his dick inside that virgin hole, pushing the alcohol and spitting, then pushing his cock down Peter's throat... And now Tony's pushing Peter to push _him_. 

Besides, Peter hasn't wimped out. He may be unsure but he's still touching Tony and hard. Then Peter actually presses him back using his body and Tony loves the immediate reaction he sees in Peter. Peter's into this. Tony's dick hardens more as he settles against the door. Peter's question still speaks of that old hesitancy clinging to him. 

"You're allowed to do whatever you want," Tony answers easily. "I wanna see you let go, Pete. Show me how shameless you can be. Show me how selfish you can be."

* * *

Peter has no idea what's going on, only that he wants whatever this is. He's not sure what Tony is getting at, or what's happened to put them into this position, but he's not about to question it. Not when the outside world and the competition are just behind the door and he can _finally_ grab a few moments with Tony in person. Yeah, he feels completely out of place and a little like there's a bomb about to drop somewhere around him, but Tony keeps encouraging him and Peter can feel Tony's dick hardening against his own. It's heartening even if he is lost.

Still, Tony telling him to _let go?_ That he wants to see Peter be shameless and selfish? Something twists in Peter's chest, but it feels a little bit more like anxiety than straight arousal. This... isn't really how things between them have gone in the past. Peter's always been able to follow Tony's lead, or Tony pushes and directs and Peter does what he can to listen. _This_ is a full turn and he can't help his hesitation.

"I don't-- I'm not really... I mean, I _try_ not to be selfish," he says uncertainly. "I guess I don't know if I manage it. But, um... I can-- you can just stop me if you don't... like what I'm doing. I guess."

He doesn't sound _fully_ convinced, kind of like he's waiting for Tony to flip their positions, mutter, 'psych' and then carry on. But Peter still wets his lips, thoughtful, and after a few seconds, he leans in again. He tightens his grip on Tony's shoulders and when he kisses him, it's slower, re-learning the feeling but remembering that Tony's not really a 'slow kiss' kind of guy. Peter picks up the pace like he's been taught, but he can't help but be curious as he tentatively slides one hand down, touching over Tony's chest almost reverently. 

* * *

Tony doesn't think he could easily explain what's changed between them. Peter undoubtedly has questions, but the kid _always_ has questions. And questions are nothing new - Tony's been fielding questions his entire career, usually the same ones over and over again too. He'd rather not attempt to spell things out for Peter now.

He does give some instruction, at least pointing Peter in the right direction. Letting go, being shameless and selfish. Tony wants to see _and_ experience Peter getting greedy and taking and giving only when he wants to give.

But is Peter on board for this? Peter bumbles about trying to not be selfish, being unsure and that Tony can stop him if he doesn't like whatever - which, yes, of course, Tony would intervene. Tony thinks Peter just needs more time to learn that dynamics and preferences can be flexible. When Peter calms down though, he's leaning in and they're kissing. Kissing is better than hesitancy, but this time Tony reels himself in and he merely responds to the kiss. 

A soft palm brushes down his chest and Tony pushes into it, encouraging. It might not be rough or intense, but it's still Peter touching him and kissing him and it's been far too long.

* * *

It's been way too long since Peter had last kissed Tony and as he sinks into the kiss, he realizes how much he's missed it. The scratch of Tony's facial hair against his chin is enough to spark sensation all the way down Peter's spine, because he remembers this. He remembers what this _means_, and what good things always follow it, and god, he's missed kissing Tony.

Except... Tony doesn't push, doesn't shove, doesn't entice Peter into going further. Instead, he hangs back but he does arch into Peter's touch, undoubtedly trying to prompt him into doing _more_. Which... okay, it's not what Peter's used to, but that doesn't mean it's _bad_. Peter hesitates, but when he draws back from the kiss and then leans in and kisses Tony again, it's a little rougher, just testing. He nips at Tony's lip and, feeling a little more confident, Peter slides his hand down further.

He touches like Tony hasn't let him before, feeling the strength in Tony's muscles, the warmth of his skin. There's something hot about feeling Tony breathe, about feeling the rise and fall of his chest, and Peter can't help but let out a small sound, eager, pressing Tony back against the door a little harder. Tony _seems_ to like it, after all, and when Peter rolls his hips, the pleasure of it makes him ache.

* * *

The kissing might not be biting or sloppy or heated, but it's still Peter's mouth on his own, it's still good. Peter has never been a _bad kisser _per se, but he's definitely improved over the duration of _this thing. _Tony had been so certain about it spectacularly exploding at some point, but now thoughts of their demise have floated away from Tony's consciousness. He's engaged and locked in and there's more that he wants to give Peter - more that Peter can give him.

Peter's second go around at kissing is better and Tony meets him, open and encouraging and thirsty. The little nip to his bottom lip brings with it a surge of arousal. Tony's arms are still looped around Peter's waist, hands clasped loosely to each other. If Tony had his way, he'd yank Peter in closer, he'd tried to make himself feel as compressed as possible between the door and Peter. He'd have Peter grabbing and scratching at him-- but Tony doesn't. He minds his manners as Peter touches at his own leisure. 

Something must change because Peter _finally _does something interesting - pressing in closer and grinding their dicks together. Tony breaks the kiss with an approved groan. "Yeah, that's it," he encourages, a small grin playing on his mouth. "You ever think of fucking me?" Tony can't help but ask, curious.

* * *

The more Peter does it, the more confident he feels in this. Yeah, he's still pretty sure that there's going to be a catch somewhere, or that he's misunderstood something, or just that Tony's trying to get him to do something only to flip everything around, but he hasn't gotten to actually explore Tony like this before. He hasn't gotten to be in charge of rolling their hips together. And when Tony groans his appreciation, Peter shudders because it sounds _so_ much like the sound Tony had made when he'd come down Peter's throat a few weeks ago. Just the thought makes his hips stutter.

Peter's already leaning in for another kiss when Tony speaks, encouraging and hot and enough to make him practically melt. But no sooner does Peter kiss Tony than the _words_ register and Peter jerks back with a sharply-drawn breath and a rougher, "_f-fuck_," because _what the fuck_.

Just the _thought_ has his dick hardening, enough that Peter doesn't need to look to see how tented his jeans are. He draws back enough to look at Tony, lips parted and eyes wide in surprise. He feels flushed all the way down his neck, pulse pounding quick as he blinks and searches Tony's eyes.

"Wh-- I- I mean," Peter begins, _clearly_ thrown and affected. "I mean _yeah_, obviously, but like... you don't like that, do you?"

* * *

It's a question worth asking. Tony's posed many questions to Peter over the months they've been hooking up - sometimes it's to get Peter worked up or to leave him some food for thought... This question has been on Tony's mind. Not necessarily for a long time. But has it been on Peter's? Peter, who used to be a virgin and had _almost _fucked a girl, but fucking a man isn't quite as easy. 

And it's not just any man - it's _Tony Stark_. Tony who's older and experienced and has been leading and corralling Peter in all of their sexventures. 

Peter's reaction is _almost _comical. It's obvious enough that Peter _hadn't _been expecting Tony's question or likely even the prospect. Tony remains where he is, watching as Peter jerks back and looks thoroughly surprised - or maybe even scandalized. Tony stares back at Peter, unashamed and unabashed by what he's brought up - by what he _wants. _

"Why _wouldn't _I like that? _You _liked it," Tony murmurs back, but he doesn't wait for Peter to respond. "Sometimes it's just an itch that needs to be scratched, but I am quite particular about it." 

* * *

_Fucking_ Tony Stark. Tony's talking about Peter fucking him. Okay, granted, he hasn't actually asked, or even really _implied_ it. He's just asked a hypothetical question, and it's really possible that Tony's only asking to gauge Peter's response, or to mess with him. He's done that kind of thing before, but as Peter gapes at Tony, something feels a little different with this moment. 

Mostly, it's the fact that Tony doesn't look like he's joking. He looks like he's curious, like he's merely sharing a thought he'd heard a few days ago that he wants to pass along, and Peter has no clue what's even _happening_ as he stands there.

Oh, he _wants_ that, of course, but there's also a real lance of anxiety that cuts through him at the thought. He swallows.

"You-- I didn't know you'd ever want to... I-I mean, of _course_ I've-- I've _thought_ about it. But, like..." Peter clears his throat, his face painfully hot. "But you're _you_, and I've never actually done _that_ before. And I came in like a minute when you sucked me off, and that was just your _mouth!_ I don't-- I wouldn't want to, um... disappoint you."

* * *

Peter's only seen a certain side of Tony Stark - the pushy, hungry side that gets his rocks off on chasing a young, hot thing like Peter and then blowing their mind. Tony's definitely enjoyed the numerous orgasms he's forced out of Peter, all the cherries he's successfully popped. There's nothing wrong with that side of himself either. Tony likes being the aggressor most of the time - it works. But spicing things up and searching for an addictive variant of that high found in other activities _also _appeals.

From Peter's responses, Tony knows that Peter is definitely down for it. But it's pretty damn obvious even before the kid speaks up that he's also anxious about it. Another one of those infamous cherries and Peter does have a good point - his baby boy nuts so easily, but there are ways around it - a cock ring for example or--

"So? You come in and me and keep on going," Tony supplies blatantly. "I've seen how quick little Peter jumps up for another go. And maybe I want more than one load in my ass." 

His wink is accompanied by a smirk playing on his lips. It's a good point to make. When Tony's imagined this happening, he happily visualizes Peter fucking him without a condom and filling him. Not now, but soon..

* * *

As much as Tony has seemed okay with Peter's sensitivity, that had been with Tony in charge. Peter's not stupid enough to think that flipping those roles wouldn't make a difference. Yeah, the thought of being able to fuck Tony is like... one of the _hottest_ things that Peter's ever thought before, but is it practical? He's not sure that the pleasure and amazement from it would be able to counterbalance the humiliation he'd probably feel at not being able to satisfy Tony the way Tony satisfies him. 

Except... Tony doesn't _look_ annoyed. He doesn't look like he's dropped the idea. Instead, Tony looks casual, almost flippant, and when he answers, Peter's totally not expecting the way that he brushes Peter's concerns aside with ease. Peter's eyes widen and his cock gives a very obvious throb in his jeans at the _thought_ of just being able to come inside Tony and then do it again. The wink and the smirk definitely don't help. Peter feels heat rising on his cheeks again, but it's not just embarrassment this time. There's a level of real interest there.

He wets his lips, quick, nervous, and when he looks up at Tony again, Peter searches his eyes. "Is this... I mean, do you like... _really_ want that, or are you just saying it? It's cool if you are!" Peter swallows. "I like-- I like what we've been doing. But if you're _really_ okay with me, um... y'know. Not lasting and stuff. I'd be good with that too."

* * *

Tony loves Peter's sensitivity. He loves seeing how easy and quick Peter comes all over himself and it would be no different if Peter's pretty cock was all up in him and learning how to finally fuck like a man. The very idea of squeezing around Peter's dick and getting him to lose it makes Tony harder. He wants Peter to know him, to know how he feels inside, how he sounds when getting fucked. It should be a perverse exploration, sweaty bodies, loose limbs, insatiable hunger to take and give as they blend together. 

But now he's grown tired of Peter's panic at this prospect. Tony's introduced the idea, he can let it simmer and settle. He offers a quick, fleeting smile before he's taking his hands away from Peter's back. Quickly, Tony works Peter's jeans and boxers down narrow hips until they're around the kid's knees. Peter's boner pops free but Tony doesn't let himself get distracted, he wastes no time in swapping their positions. He steps away while turning Peter around and then ushering his baby against the door, Peter's dick pressed along it. 

"Keep your hands by your head," Tony instructs as he works out his hard cock. He's then stepping in closer and nestling his dick into the cleft of Peter's ass. "Want you to close your eyes, Pete," Tony murmurs as his chin fits over Peter's shoulder to whisper into his ear. "Want you to imagine how it'd feel to have _your _cock against _my _ass."

* * *

Peter can't believe they're actually having this conversation. It feels like a dream come true, but like... one that has the potential to be really embarrassing if he doesn't do it right. The desire to ask Tony if it can be _tonight_ is there, under the surface, but Peter isn't sure if he should. There's stuff he should do first, right? Like jerk off to try and take the edge off, or get condoms, or maybe do other stuff to try and last longer. He's pretty sure there's like a numbing thing guys can use--

Before he can spiral too far down into his own imagination, Tony suddenly reaches down. Before Peter can really figure out what's going on, Tony has his jeans undone, and Peter gasps softly as his cock suddenly springs free. Even he can see how turned on the conversation had made him, and he's so caught up in that that when Tony reaches out to flip their positions, Peter isn't prepared.

He _can_ acknowledge how hot it is to suddenly be pressed against the door, though. The wood is a little warm from Tony's body, but it's still a bit of a shock of sensation. He stiffens, and when Tony is suddenly _there_ and Peter feels the hot, hard heat of _his_ cock, Peter lets out a softer, shuddering moan and sinks into it. He closes his eyes, and there's something impossibly hot about having Tony murmur right into his ear. Peter's dick twitches, already a little damp at the tip, and at the instruction, he shivers and nods, keeping his hands by his head.

"God, I can't even--" Peter breathes out, his voice a little rougher. "That'd be so _hot_, Mr. Stark."

* * *

Briefly, Tony had thought of getting Peter to do this to him, but he could tell that Peter's brain is short-circuiting from this seemingly sudden surprise Tony has thrust on the kid. There's a small thread of bitterness that Peter isn't jumping immediately into the proposed shift of power, but... Tony can admit that Peter's still practically a virgin. Tony needs to be patient and keep his expectations realistic (not his forte).

Any possible disappointment disappears when Peter's hands raise and plant against the door in obedience. Tony would love to pin Peter against a variety of things... Oh, to have the freedom to do that, to take Peter wherever and get frisky whenever, but that isn't their life. 

With his dick nestled against soft skin, Tony groans at Peter's rougher tone. He still can appreciate the respective _mister _thrown in every now and again. Tony kisses at Peter's neck before lifting his other hand to spit twice on his palm. That wet palm is then brought down between them and Tony coats the head of his cock in his own spit. He pointedly directs his cockihead against that sweet little hole he spots. 

"Would it now?" Tony asks, his own tone lower. Holding his cock he pushes just _slightly _against Peter's hole to feel the resistance but doesn't go any further. "I know you're going to love feeling me like this, baby."

* * *

Peter's mind is whirling still, though in a kind of disconnected way. It feels like he's caught between two extremes and it's just a lot to take in. Tony's behind him and Peter has proof that it's _always_ a good thing when Tony pins him down or manhandles him, but he still can't let go of the thought of Tony actually letting Peter do this to him. It feels impossible, feels like a gift he hasn't actually earned, but when Tony mutters his response and presses in closer, Peter shudders viscerally and rests his forehead against the door.

Because that's Tony's _cock_ nudging up against his hole. Peter feels a brief spark of uncertainty, because there's no saying that Tony isn't going to try and push in, but he doesn't think that Tony would do it. But the _threat_ of it is kind of hot, and Peter's left wondering when he started to think like this. Tony's had an impact on him.

He wonders briefly what _Tony_ might do if Peter threatened the same thing, and the thought sends a rush of heat so sudden through him that a drop of precome beads against his cock. Peter swallows, his dick rubbing against the door and leaving a bit of a trail of wetness behind. He feels a little like his mind is conspiring against him too.

"You'd... you'd really let me?" Peter breathes, feeling heat prickle along the back of his neck. "You promise?"

* * *

No, Tony isn't going to push his dick in - he isn't an idiot and he understands the way body's work - at least when it comes to fucking. But the sensation? The threat? That's what he's doing here. Against him, Tony feels Peter instinctively tense in concern but that tension soon shifts into the aroused kind. Peter doesn't tell him no or try to stop him, nope. Peter lets his Daddy rub against that cute little pucker. Tony's dick aches at the soft heat it finds. 

He so desperately wants to grab lube, quickly finger Peter open and then slide back in. He wants to slap into Peter again and again as Peter's pushed against the door.

He doesn't. Instead, he looks over Peter's shoulder and sees that nice young cock pinned to the door and already drooling and Tony smiles. Peter's question - asking if he promises - only has Tony's smile widening. He nuzzles against Peter's neck and breathes him in.

"Baby, you win the show? And that night I'll wait for you. As long as it takes. Gonna throw you a party and let you fuck me."

* * *

Peter can't read Tony's mind, but he doesn't have to. He might not be able to predict Tony the way that he can predict his friends or some of the other judges, but there's no mistaking the way that Tony keeps rubbing his dick up against Peter's ass. Each pass over his hole is another tease, something that makes him feel more and more desperate, and Peter's tempted to actually push back a bit, to ask if they can just _go there, _but no. No, it's reckless.

Besides, as much as Peter is into having Tony's voice this close, and as much as he feels heat prickling under his skin at the thought of Tony fucking him, Tony's promise almost blows it out of the water. Peter shudders, biting his bottom lip with a softer, bitten-back sound of want. 

He doesn't know if he'll win this competition, though he knows he's got a really good chance at this point. But the thought of winning the show _and_ having Tony reward him? The thought of Tony letting him do that? Peter clenches his hands into fists to keep from reaching down to jerk himself off. 

"God, yeah. I'll-- yeah, I'll try. I swear, I'll try," Peter babbles, rocking his hips as much as he can. "Fuck, Tony, please. D--" Peter swallows and forges ahead with only the smallest pause. "Daddy, please."

* * *

If Peter doesn't win, Tony's gonna let him go. It'll be a sign to pack up and move on. Tony thinks that that's fair. While he personally thinks that Peter could still make it without winning - if he were to step in and sign him - Tony doesn't think he should. Peter's got this chance, Tony's helped facilitate it, but it's up to Peter to actually fucking win and make it. It'd be no help to give the illusion that the world would be giving second chances and shit like that. After all, sometimes (usually) the winners fizzle anyway.

Tony holds his spit-wet cock, intently keeping the head of it pressed against hot furled skin. His eyes close, Peter jerks from his offer, making just the sweetest of sounds that goes right to Tony's dick. Tony has no qualms about offering himself up as a reward. Motivation of this nature has worked well for Peter in the past. He feels Peter's muscles clench and Tony opens his eyes to see that Peter's made fists against the door. He admires the strain evident in Peter's forearms. 

Tony's kissing along Peter's neck as he begins to beg. "Daddy's got you," Tony soothes, his free hand lifting to cover one of Peter's clenched fists. "'m right here with you. You rub yourself against the door if you want, but no touching that pretty cock." Tony adjusts, lifting his own cock to nestle it once more in the cleft of Peter's ass, allowing him to give small little thrusts that have his dick sliding back and forth.

"All for Daddy, right?" Tony suddenly growls into Peter's ear. "This is _all _for me, isn't it?"

* * *

Peter feels dizzy with how badly he wants to just reach down and touch himself. Tony has this way of just slipping himself into Peter's senses and overwhelming him. It's like a rush that Peter doesn't want to let go of. Tony's just so damn _good_ at turning him on and eclipsing everything else. Yeah, Peter's sure that it has something to do with his whole hero-worship thing, and the fact that Tony had technically been his first, but there's more to it than that. Tony's just really good at commanding attention and Peter can't help but be drawn to him.

He knows that there's nothing to it. Tony had made that clear. This is a reward or something - a game that Tony is playing, maybe. But as Tony's thick cock nestles between his cheeks and he begins to rock his hips forward, pushing Peter to rub his dick against the door, he can't bring himself to question it or care. 

And... fuck, okay. So _maybe_ there's a small part of Peter that kind of feels settled when Tony suddenly puts his hand over his own. He knows it doesn't mean anything to Tony, but Peter's had a crush for basically forever. He can enjoy the consideration.

But when Tony's voice drops and gets all rough, Peter shudders plainly. He makes a small sound, a little embarrassing, but fuck. He's admitted to worse. So when Tony asks, Peter nods, jerking his hips clumsily and gasping at the sensation. 

"Yeah. Yeah, yes, _absolutely_. All for you. God, Tony. I love it when you talk like that."

* * *

There's really nothing better than hearing Peter struggle and then embrace calling him _Daddy _without any prompt on Tony's part. Tony basks in his enjoyment, relishes in how Peter fits so perfectly against him, how worked up Peter is. Peter's body still surprises him, youthful but lightly muscled and so fit. Tony thinks about getting Peter in his room - he's got black out curtains - and having them both stand in the pitch dark so Tony can kiss and feel Peter's naked body by touch alone.

He squeezes Peter's hand because he can, because it's more contact between them. Peter's ass is pert, the divide between his cheeks warm and welcoming, not as much as his hole, no, but it's still nice. The mental clock in his head is still present. While on show property, Tony's must be mindful of not getting caught, but soon he won't have to be.

From Peter's physical reaction, Peter's living for what he's said. At the confirmation, he stops caring about holding his own dick and grabs Peter's other hand, pressing in close. Then Tony hears _love_ and Peter's probably said that word a hundred times before, some in a sexual manner and some not, but tonight it's different. He sighs as he coaxes Peter's hands to relax and interlocks their fingers instead, grasping them tight. 

"Yeah, I bet you do," Tony murmurs hotly into Peter's ear. His hips grind against Peter, his dick throbbing. Somehow Tony's closer than he ought to be. He presses in more because they're somehow not close enough (distantly he's aware that this might be uncomfortable for Peter). "Bet you fucking want to be _all_ _mine_, don't you, baby?" Tony uses the tip of his nose to caress under Peter's ear.

The clock isn't ticking anymore, he's not a slave to it. "Pete, baby, do you love me?" 

* * *

Peter doesn't think about what he's said, because why _would_ he? Tony's talked about Peter loving his dick before. You just use words sometimes in situations like this, or at least Peter's finding that that's the case with Tony. It doesn't _mean_ anything (despite how much Peter might have wanted that, or maybe still does, but he's not stupid). It's just something Tony says sometimes, and right now, Peter's mind feels stretched thin.

He's aroused, his dick throbbing, his mind overloaded with everything. Peter's focused on all of it. On Tony's touch, on his scent and how hard he's pressing Peter against the door. He's focused on Tony's voice, on this current moment, but also on the hypothetical future where Tony lets Peter fuck him. And, finally, though it's such a stupidly small thing, he's focused on the way that Tony's holding his hand against the door. It's nice even if Peter knows it doesn't _mean_ anything. But it _is_ hard to remind himself of that when Tony's fingers suddenly intertwine with his on both hands.

Peter's heart gives a quick, sharp pang, but before he can do anything, Tony presses in closer. Peter feels some of the air leave his lungs, feels his cock press fully against the door, and it's such an intense, all-encompassing feeling as Tony crowds him and grinds against him and the asks _that question_, and god, he's so close--

"Y-yeah, yeah, I do, _fuck_\--" But just as Peter realizes _what_ he'd just said, Tony's hips roll forwards and the combination of shock, pleasure, closeness, and the sudden spike of adrenaline have him half-crying out before he remembers to bite it back. Heart pounding for more reasons than just pleasure, Peter bites his lip hard and whimpers, his hands gripping Tony's hard as his cock twitches and throbs, painting the door with his come in sharp waves of pleasure. 

* * *

Ownership. Infatuation. Love. Tony's never given a shit about that sort of thing before because it never lasts. Why would it? Feelings are fleeting, situations change and people come and go. Fickle fans confess love and adoration without even having shared a private word between them. At least Peter knows him. Peter trusts him, somehow sees the best in him, and while Tony knows he's going to fuck this up, he doesn't care. He can't. 

Peter Parker is a vice that Tony refuses to give up, the sweetest dessert, the smoothest shot of liquor down his throat. Peter's both new and more familiar but he hasn't lost his appeal. And for some reason, the prospect of Peter _loving _him isn't frightful. Instead, it's something Tony greedily wants and for a man like Tony who's always wanted too much, this is no different. 

Caught amidst the tantalizing high and the closeness of Peter, Tony's not even afraid of the impending answer. It doesn't really matter what Tony believes or thinks, his question requires a direct affirmation or denial from Peter. There's a few seconds where Peter undoubtedly processes his words, but Tony merely basks in the edges of sweat around Peter's hairline and how good it feels to have Peter under him. The day that he can have Peter is his bed for _hours_? Tony's going to make that shit good.

Peter's answer comes and then Peter comes. Tony sighs, eyes closed as he grips Peter's hands tight as his baby boy unloads against his door. The sounds Peter makes are sinful and unfortunately hushed. Tony's own cock aches, body trembling at the sheer intensity of what's just happened, but he doesn't reach down or continue grinding into Peter. His own orgasm isn't important, at least not immediately. 

The fucking clock is thankfully still quiet. "Yeah, you do, baby," Tony murmurs, a smile heard in his voice and then felt as Tony presses his mouth against Peter's neck. 


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's not dead? Us! Yay! Hope you enjoy this chapter - even though we had to split it up so it doesn't get thickdick huge in length 🥳

* * *

* * *

Peter expects his admission of love to change things. For days after the little tryst together in Tony's dressing room, he's convinced that he's made things _weird_. He walks a little more on eggshells when he gets together with Tony, and when rehearsals start up again, Peter's careful to do everything that Tony tells him to. 

But as time goes on, it becomes clear to Peter that Tony's not affected by it, or if he is, he doesn't mind as much. It's baffling, but to his immense delight, Tony's treating him the same way that he always had. 

Or... no, okay, maybe not. Something is different, but Peter can't put his finger on it. All he knows is that it's a good different. Tony's more supportive. He smiles more. He laughs more. And when Peter needs help with choreography, Tony steps in and takes him through the moves himself. 

It's totally going down as one of his favorite memories ever.

One of them. Because despite how hard Peter had worked over the last few months, despite the injuries and the difficulties and the cattiness and the cameras, when the finale finally rolls around, everything changes. 

The night is a blast. It's a whirlwind of flashing lights and pounding music and cheering crowds. The other act against Peter is a guy Peter's come to know pretty well, and their rivalry has grown into a friendly one. So, they hit it. They make the night _amazing_. Peter sings like he'll never get another chance to, and as he goes through the finale choreography, he finds himself glancing at the judging panel more than once. Tony's watching him, and Peter feels proud and nervous and thrilled all at once.

Then the numbers are in. The voting closes, and Peter doesn't remember much aside from a deafening silence. Then the host says his name, there's glittering confetti _everywhere_, and Peter's world explodes into a numb shock of delight.

He hardly gets any time to himself for the next four hours, and he feels like it passes in a daze. May's in the audience and she grabs him in one of the biggest hugs in his _lifetime_, and Ned and MJ are there as well. There are interviews, one after the other, and appointments for the next day to sign onto Tony's record deal. Which is _amazing_, and Peter feels a little like he's trying not to cry for a good hour or so, which is _really_ uncool, but people around him say is fine and normal. 

But through it all, he doesn't see Tony except for one meeting on stage. Peter feels Tony's hand on his shoulder, and despite how badly they _aren't_ a thing, and despite how much Peter knows better, he can't help but want Tony to be proud of him too.

So, when Peter gets in that night after sending May and Ned and MJ off with promises to meet up later, he's honestly surprised to see a message waiting for him on his phone. It's simple - a number to text to get taken to Tony's _private home - _and Peter feels his heart leap up into his throat with a mixture of excitement and nerves, because in the chaos, he'd forgotten Tony's deal. He'd forgotten what Tony had promised him if he'd _won_.

Peter showers like he's got two minutes to live and texts Tony's driver to come and pick him up. He's still flying on cloud nine as he throws on an old comfortable hoodie over top of a Vixen t-shirt and ripped jeans, and then he dashes off to meet the car. 

The trip could have taken hours for all Peter knows; it feels like minutes to him. He feels dizzy with it when the driver pulls up outside of a gated property and enters in the code. Peter thanks him once he's dropped off and - trying not to feel like a _total_ loser as he looks around in awe at the sheer _size_ of Tony's house - Peter makes his way to the front doors and rings the doorbell, his eyes wide.

* * *

The semi-finale goes off without a hitch and Peter, naturally, skates by. Pride swells within Tony. Fuck yeah, his baby is going to win this show and Tony's going to push and make sure Peter isn't one of the dopes that put out a mediocre record and then nose dives into oblivion afterward. Not on his watch, nope. It's not even a matter of pride, it's a matter of principle. Peter deserves it and has what it takes to make it big, so Tony is going out of his way to ensure that it happens. Tony using his fame and fortune for good? Interesting.

Knowing that Peter loves him? It's good. It's a shared secret between them that Tony actively thinks about every now and then. Peter doesn't say it over the phone or text him it, but it's still known. Tony doesn't forget it. The admission has been breathed into life by Peter's affirmation. Peter is a good kid. He's never asked for a selfie or an autograph from any of the judges. Peter's never really asked for anything from him either. 

Peter just wants _him_ and that's a feeling Tony fucking loves and practically gets high on. It's exciting and even though the entirety of this is hidden, it brightens things in a way that Tony's never really had in his life. He's oddly content planning out their little celebratory party for two. From what social media is showing, Peter's more than likely going to win. Tony's already been prepped on this. However, he doesn't tell Peter because a bit of nerves can light a fire under the ass.

By the time the finale ends, Tony's face actually hurts from smiling and grinning. Peter is mostly ushered around and Tony gives the few necessary spiels required of him, but he lets Peter have his moment in the spotlight - kid fucking deserves it for how hard he's worked. Tony sees the infamous Aunt May and the kid's friends, but he doesn't try and worm his way in to have introductions be made.

When Tony gets back to his place, he surveys the scene. He didn't get crazy with decorations, but there are red and silver balloons in the first-floor living room, some streamers and shit. He could have paid someone to go all out - but he'd wanted to do it himself. Personal touch and everything. 

When his driver alerts him after picking up Peter, Tony phones in the pizza order (Peter's favorite), checks on the cake (Peter's favorite) and then heads to his room to shower and spruce up. He washes the product out of his hair, scrubs the touch-up makeup off, and goes a step further in cleaning as he hasn't forgotten what their plans are. Tony dresses in a nicer pair of dark jeans, a black sheer button-down shirt with a navy blue suit jacket over the ensemble. It's dressier than Tony usually goes for when meeting up with Peter, but why not? After ensuring that he exceeds his own standards, Tony's checking the GPS of his driver.

The next ten minutes pass agonizingly slow as Tony paces around the first floor of his place (that'd been spotlessly cleaned yesterday by the maid). When Peter finally arrives, Tony's waiting at the front door, eagerly watching the security screen. He doesn't open the door as Peter strolls up. He doesn't open it as Peter stands there and glances at the doorbell. 

Tony only opens the door after Peter rings the bell and Tony smiles. Peter looks so good. All casual - like nothing phenomenal and life-changing has just occurred. It's cute.

"There's my big star," Tony greets. He grasps Peter's wrist and pulls the kid into his place before closing the door and locking it. 

"You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you."

* * *

It's not until the door opens and Peter catches his first glimpse of Tony standing there that he realizes he's been in a sort of a daze ever since his win. He's comfortable; his hoodie is warm and he feels like himself in his clothing, but all it takes is that one glimpse of Tony for Peter to realize that he _could_ have dressed up for the occasion. Hell, maybe he should have, because Tony looks... Tony looks _amazing_. 

Peter definitely stares at him, quickly drinking in the sight. Tony's never dressed up for _him_ before, but Peter can't say that anymore. He wants to say something, wants to find his voice and give some sort of praise, but before he can untie his tongue, Tony's already reaching out and pulling him past the threshold. Peter half-stumbles, not really ready for the move, but there's something about Tony closing and locking the door that makes something bubble up inside of Peter's chest. 

But - and Peter doubts he'll ever stop feeling embarrassed about it - it's hearing that Tony is _proud_ of him that finally makes him feel more grounded. Peter has a second to look at Tony, feeling that familiar rise of awestruck excitement and then, before he can tell himself how bad the idea is, he's just... moving.

Peter doesn't _lunge _\- he's not that lame. But he does immediately close the meager distance between them and reaches out. Before he can decide if it's a good idea, his arms are around Tony and Peter all but clings to him. He hugs Tony so tight that even his arms wind up aching, and just like that, it feels right. Tony had been the one to get him through this, to be there every step of the way. 

"Thank you," Peter breathes, hugging Tony tight, his face tucked in against Tony's neck. "Thank you _so much_, Tony. I couldn't have-- without you, I couldn't have done it."

* * *

Tony _is _proud of Peter. Talent is one thing - vital and all, yes - but it's not the only ingredient to produce a star. Hard work, personality, some luck, image, the right timing, the right managing. A lot of things matter and Peter's been a joy to work with and be around - all of the crew and judges have said as much. 

There's some petty blob living inside of Tony's chest that's displeased at the prospect of other people enjoying _his _boy, but Tony pushes it down. Peter wants this and Peter deserves it. Tony can reign himself in.

After months of sneaking around, Escalade-groping and hotel visits, to finally have Peter in his home and away from prying eyes is honestly a thrill. Tony's all for getting dirty in public or semi-public places, but _only _being able to sneak around? It's not his thing. It's not sustainable. 

But now he's got Peter here. Private. No rush. Perfection.

Then Tony's got Peter aggressively hugging him and Tony gives a surprised chuckle as he adjust to the sudden attack. Seeing no reason not to, Tony immediately wraps his arms around Peter's slim waist and hugs back. Peter feels good in his arms, and while Tony's not often known to be great with affection or care or comforting, he thinks he's doing a bang-up job right now, thanks. 

"Hands down, I'm the show's best mentor-slash-judge," Tony teases before pressing a kiss into Peter's hair. "But really, _you _did it. And we're going to celebrate appropriately. I've got a killer cake, pizza on the way, decorations and shit, so take off your shoes."

* * *

Peter knows it's probably not even slightly cool to be doing this, but he can't help it. It's either hug Tony or do something even worse. And no matter how much Peter thinks this is lame, he _will not_ be the guy to like, cry or something. Hugging is vastly preferable to crying. He can live a hug down, but the alternative? Yeah, no. Tony would never let him live that one down.

So, yeah. Peter hugs Tony. He hugs him until his own arms ache, because there's gratitude, and then there's what _Peter _is feeling, and it goes way beyond conventional gratitude. Maybe this whole journey has been stressful, and maybe there's a lot that he could have done differently, but Tony's been by his side the whole time and Peter will never stop being grateful for him. Yeah, some things hadn't been the best - the tabloid thing still stings when Peter thinks about it - but all in all, he's happy. He's _so_ damn happy. 

Tony hugs him back, which kind of makes Peter want to melt. He breathes Tony in, the scent of soap and the distant scent of cologne, and when Tony speaks up, Peter makes himself at least _try_ to be cool. He begins to pull away, but then Tony kisses his hair and Peter feels that dangerous twist in his chest that makes him feel a little tongue-tied. He draws back, grinning, torn between being _thrilled_ and touched, and he's not sure he commits to either.

"You-- you didn't have to do all that for me," Peter protests, but already he's taking his shoes off. He steps out of them and kicks them back near the door. And, because Peter's still aware that he's _kind of_ dressed like a slob compared to Tony, he hastens to unzip his hoodie and hangs it up by the door. It leaves him in the Vixen t-shirt, which is kind of embarrassing, but he's too thrilled to care. 

"But thank you. You're-- you're really great, you know that? Seriously."

* * *

Maybe this is lame - this celebration party thing, but whatever. Peter deserves it. Tony has thrown many a parties over the years - thrown them, attended them, got someone else to plan them... But he's never actually done shit himself. And yes, it has a DIY feel to it with the decorations, but at least he'd had the foresight to not attempt to bake a cake or cook food. Fuck that. That'd likely end in disaster and Peter deserves his favorites to be exceptional because the kid is damn exceptional.

Which still blows Tony's mind that he's here, months in, still interested in Peter with no sign of it stopping even. Tony still remembers thinking of how and when he was going to cut off things. Now it's the furthest thing from his mind. He can't even fathom kicking Peter out of his life. Why would he? They've got a really good thing going on and maybe Peter doesn't know him all that well, but Tony's finding that he actually _wants _Peter to get to know him, to see him past _Tony Stark, _rockstar, celebrity, ooo ahhh~

It's honestly a little funny considering how much content about him that's available. Tony has a Wikipedia page, a shit ton of interviews and appearances online, award ceremonies, videos, articles... Peter has a lot of shit available to him to look up, but does any of the published, public stuff even matter when anyone can read it or watch it? Tony doesn't think so. 

"Of course I didn't have to, I wanted to," Tony says after Peter's done gushing and removing his shoes and hoodie. Tony doesn't comment on Peter's praise of him being really great. It doesn't really need a reply of any sort. 

The next ten minutes is Tony giving Peter a cursory tour of the first floor as Peter should probably know where the bathroom is and whatnot, but it's when they get to the large indoor pool area and he sees Peter's obvious excitement that Tony gets an idea.

"Wanna go for a dip?" he suggests. "Before the food gets here?" 

A little bit of skinny dipping? Why not?

* * *

Peter doesn't exactly manage to be cool, but he does his best. He doesn't burst out into grateful tears, and he doesn't try to play it off like he's some bigshot who couldn't care less. This means a lot to him. He's still reeling, still so stunned at the outcome of the competition that he can hardly begin to reconcile the way he feels with his new reality. It might be difficult in the future; Peter knows he needs to find a good balance between his new label and his YouTube channel and the people who follow him on Patreon, but he's so excited to figure out how this new chapter in his life is going to go.

Especially considering that Tony is in it. Peter isn't sure how to explain how much this means to him. All he knows is that when Tony offers to show him around, Peter agrees. It's more to keep his head on straight, more to try and be cool, but he's pretty sure he only half-succeeds. Practically floating on air, Peter follows Tony through the bottom floor of his home, his eyes wide, his jaw dropped. Tony's house is huge, but it's gorgeous, and with every step Peter takes, the more he realizes that this is really happening.

It's when Tony opens a door and there's a freaking _pool_ beyond it that Peter can't quite hide his excitement. He perks up visibly, because living in New York, every pool that Peter's ever been to has either been crowded beyond all reasons, or too expensive to go to without a gym membership at five in the morning to avoid the crowds. He's not sure he's ever seen a pool _this_ empty before. At least not until watching the Olympics or something.

Some of his excitement must show, because Tony suggests actually going for a swim, and Peter freezes, looking over at him somewhat sheepishly. Excitement rises up in his chest, but there is _one_ little problem...

"I'd-- yeah, I'd love to, but I didn't know you had a pool. I don't have swimming trunks with me or anything."

* * *

Considering how taken with the pool Peter is, how could Tony _not_ offer that they try it out? Sure it wasn't in his plans and he's actually dressed up a little, but the spontaneity of it and the fact that they can get naked? It calls to Tony like a goddamn siren's song. It sounds fun and Tony really doesn't use the pool as often as he should (but the hot tub he has in his bathroom? That's another story).

Tony's not at all surprised by Peter's mention of the lack of what Peter would deem to be appropriate swimwear. Tony flashes a smile and gives a dismissive wave of his hand.

"No need for swim trunks," Tony replies as he shrugs off his suit jacket, placing it on a lay down beach chair. Not too far away is a nook filled with a stack of soft towels and clean fluffy house coats to put on. He figures there will be no need to get completely redressed anyway. Why not pizza and cake whilst nude, or mostly nude? Tony's home is private and secure and no one will catch them.

"We'll use our birthday suits," he explains as he then unbuttons enough buttons to allow him to pull off his shirt. "You ever skinny dipped before, baby?" The prospect of another first with Peter delights Tony.

* * *

The thought of sinking into a pool is still thrilling to Peter, even if it probably isn't that practical. With food coming, the last thing that Peter wants is to need to dry off quickly, redress, and answer the door soaking wet. The thought of swimming with Tony is a thrilling one, but Peter's trying to be practical, especially considering how careful they've been all this time to keep this whole thing a secret.

So, when Tony dismisses the need for swim trunks, initially Peter is confused. But the moment that Tony slips his suit jacket off and then begins to unbutton his suit, Peter's stomach gives a quick tug of understanding. Heat begins to settle low but his cheeks also warm up a bit, because Tony can't possibly be suggesting--

He is. 

Peter swallows, but despite finding the prospect kind of... weird but also weirdly arousing, he's also kind of intrigued. Slowly, mindful of Tony watching, he fusses with the hem of his t-shirt and then slowly pulls it up and over his head. He doesn't mean to be seductive with it; he's just still kind of blown away at the possibility that this is happening.

"Uh-- no. No, I've-- never. I mean, unless you count taking a bath. It's not... y'know. Easy to find a place in New York to even go for a swim, much less privately. But... you're sure?" Peter asks, but despite his hesitation, he has yet to take his eyes off of Tony's bare chest and shoulders. 

So sue him; he's easy. 

* * *

The flush to Peter's cheeks is absolutely fetching and it's all because Tony's working on undressing. And the fact that he's suggesting - and encouraging - that they go skinny dipping. It sounds like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. They probably have a good twenty or thirty minutes until the pizza arrives and given how much Tony's paid and who he is, the delivery punk will wait for him. At least, their delivery punk _better _wait for him. 

Tony thoroughly enjoys the look of realization that flashes across Peter's face when the kid clues into what Tony's getting at. As Peter slowly pulls off his t-shirt and bears delicious skin that Tony's quite the fan of, Tony smirks. While Peter may not be _trying _to act sexy-like, the slowness of Peter's motions _is _appealing and Tony's dick is definitely taking an interest.

Peter's response is both ridiculous and adorable given that he actually mentions the fact that he takes a bath _naked. _Wow. Somehow Tony doesn't laugh at the reference and he considers it a victory. He drapes his dress shirt over his suit jacket and winks. 

"Do I not look sure?" Tony says. "Let's do it." And he doesn't wait for a reply before he's working down his jeans and boxers.

* * *

Skinny dipping. As in naked. As in wearing no clothes and going for it. Peter knows that he's been naked around Tony before, and supposedly something like that is supposed to happen tonight, but he hadn't planned on it happening this soon. Besides, Peter hadn't really expected a pool in his future, but the more that he thinks about it and looks over at the water, the more he's tempted. Not _just_ because it entails a naked Tony, but that's a perk too.

A perk that he sees _way_ quicker than he's expecting to. Peter's eyes widen as Tony challenges him right back and then slides his jeans and boxers down. Peter feels blood rush south quickly; it's been... okay, not a _long_ time since they'd had sex or anything, but long enough that the sight of Tony naked makes his pulse skip in his chest. Peter swallows obviously and makes his choice without dwelling on it.

With jerky, half-certain movements, Peter toes his socks off and reaches down to work his pants and boxers down. He's nowhere near as graceful as Tony is with it, and he _does_ kind of half-trip over one of his pant legs, but it doesn't take long for Peter to strip down as well. He looks over at the pool, feeling heat all the way down his neck as he stands there, naked. It's kind of weird that _this_ feels more embarrassing than being naked on Tony's bed, but Peter's still primed and excited. 

"Okay," Peter breathes, shaking his hands out a little to try and shake his nerves away. "Okay, yeah, let's do it. We can-- you look really good, by the way-- we can do it. Is the pool, uh... warm?"

* * *

As shameless as Tony may be concerning his nudity, he is aware that being naked _now _and with the intention of getting into the pool makes this nakedness different. It's probably why Peter is acting akin to a blushing bride. Of course, Tony's already deflowered this bride if that's the case, but he imagines Peter would strip with more confidence - or quicker - if it was with the intention of getting down and dirty.

Not that Tony thinks their little swim will stay G-rated, but the down and dirty part comes later. Like them.

While Tony suffers and works hard to keep in shape, he's nowhere near Peter's physical condition. Once again, he finds himself assuming that most of Peter's attraction to him comes from just _who _Tony is (because the kid could definitely get someone younger and more fit)--

No. Peter loves him and Peter follows suit, going for his socks first then working on pants and boxers. Tony's almost half-hard, but he's not worried about boner-status when Peter's pile of clothing rests at his feet and Peter gazes up at him, all excited and nervous, but _willing. _

And also complimenting him. Tony chuckles softly under his breath as he steps over to a deliciously naked Peter. His hand reaches out, index finger and thumb tilting Peter's head up by his chin. 

"Of course, I wouldn't have us freezing," Tony answers, the tip of their noses almost touching. As much as he wants to kiss Peter senseless, Tony's committed to them swimming. His hand drops to then grasp Peter's own before turning to face the awaiting water. Thankfully they're already at the deep end of the large pool.

"On the count of three, we're jumping in. You count us down, baby."

* * *

Tony looks _really_ good. Peter's trying his best not to make his attraction too obvious, but considering Tony's dick isn't fully soft, he thinks maybe they're in the same boat, which is reassuring. Peter definitely stares more than he should, but considering it's Tony, he thinks it's okay. 

Besides, the air in the room is kind of humid, and a bit warm, and there's something really satisfying about the sight of Tony standing confidently like he is. It's enough to make Peter draw himself up a little taller too, enough to offer him a little more confidence considering what they're going to do.

The gentle order to count them down to jumping has Peter's pulse picking up in his chest. It's half-due to Tony giving him any sort of command while naked (he's easy, so sue him) and half because of that little pet name. Peter wets his lips quickly and then nods, looking back out over at the pool.

"This is so weird," he says, but there's already a small smile tugging at his lips, excited and a little nervous. "But... yeah, yeah, okay. Um, on 'go', we jump. Three... two... one... _go!_"

And, trusting that Tony will keep his word and not just let Peter jump alone, Peter leaps from the edge of the pool deck and splashes down into blessedly warm water a second later. It's immediately ten times more intimate than swimming has _ever_ been in the past. It's not like swim trunks actually do much, but the illusion of modesty is still something that Peter is used to. But when he surfaces and reaches up, wiping a hand over his face to brush the water away, it kind of feels... exciting to be naked like this. Especially with Tony. 

"You were right; it _is_ really warm! It feels good."

* * *

To some, Tony's sure that they'd look ridiculous - naked, holding hands, counting down to jump into the pool together, but whatever. It doesn't bother Tony. All of this is _for _Peter and Peter deserves a memorable skinny dipping experience with him, so that's what Tony is going to give to him. 

Peter counts down and on the count of _go _(lame? cute? doesn't matter)_, _Peter jumps in and Tony follows suit. 

The warm water welcomes them and Tony closes his eyes as he goes under. It's a revitalizing rush to be naked while submerged in the water _and _knowing that Peter is with him. Tony kicks, swimming to break to the surface and as he does, he's grinning. His hair is plastered down onto his skull, but he blinks his eyes open and after he pushes his hair back, he gazes at Peter who's treading water nearby.

Peter's hair is also wet and flattened to his head and the kid is smiling brightly. Peter's gorgeous and perfect and Tony's dick may be interested, but it's not with any sort of urgency.

"Told ya so," Tony teases back before he swims a circle around Peter (although he's careful to not make too big of a splash). 

"Feels nice to be naked and wet, doesn't it?" He asks as he comes to stop in front of Peter, treading water softly. Admittedly, it's a bit of a perverted comment, but Tony doesn't make any move to _do _anything to Peter. He simply looks at Peter, marvelling that Peter's actually here and with him. 

* * *

Peter isn't sure how he'd _ever_ explain this to anyone asking, but this feels good in a way that he'd like to experience again. It feels a little like the kind of secret freedom that comes from climbing into bed naked after a shower, or being alone in the house, so not bothering to get dressed in the morning, only on a larger scale. Peter's never shared that feeling _with_ someone else, and the knowledge that Tony's there with him is enough to make it feel even more exciting. 

The water is warm, the pool is pretty huge, and when Tony reaches up to brush his hair back, Peter feels a small, ridiculous flutter in his chest. He's still aware of what the _plan_ is tonight, and it's hard to not be excited, but this is exciting in a different way. He feels good. He feels _alive_, and as Tony swims around him, Peter grins, treading water and watching Tony swim around.

The comment does have him flushing a little, though. Peter feels heat creep down his throat at how suggestive that had sounded. It makes him a little more aware that he's kind of hard too, but it doesn't feel urgent. Well... okay, yeah, it does. _Anything_ to do with Tony and anything sexual always feels urgent to Peter, but it's not all-encompassing. It feels comfortable.

"You were right," Peter says, kicking his feet and spinning in a small circle just to feel the swish of the water against his skin. "It really _does_ feel good. Feels kinda... kinky? But not that much? I can't think of a better word," Peter adds, a little sheepishly. 

* * *

There's been countless texts sent (and then deleted), a handful of times where inappropriate touching went down, stolen late-night meet-ups, and now the damn TV show is finally over and Peter's won. And Tony is throwing him this celebratory party. Despite being in their birthday suits, despite the obvious attraction they both have toward each other, this has a different feeling to it. There's a lightheartedness to this particular activity and it's... fun. It's nice.

Tony's not sure where this is going - not this night, because Tony knows where their night is going - but _after_. Tomorrow. And the next day. And next week. Can Tony even _do _this? Could he ever make Peter truly happy? Can he hold it together? Because for all his flaws, Tony knows himself. He knows he's prone to having a few screws pop out here and there, and Peter doesn't deserve--

It doesn't matter. Because Peter looks genuinely happy - a little flustered by Tony's comment, but that's pretty par for the course. The warble of the water doesn't really let them get a good look below, but it's not as if Peter's pecker is a new thing to him (and the fact that Tony _still_ wants to see Peter's pecker? Crazy). 

"Of course I'm right," Tony teases. "And you're also right." Skinny dipping, for as tame as Tony considers it, does hold a sort of taboo quality to it. 

They spend the next fifteen minutes swimming around. There's kissing and laughing, and they even have a mini water fight which is really just glorified splashing at each other. It's silly, sure, but it's also fun. The last time he'd used his pool with anyone had been Norweigan twins from Sports Illustrated and that'd been tits and gin until sunrise. 

The pizza arriving has their swim coming to an end and Tony clambers out and grabs towels for them. He dries himself quickly, and then hands Peter a towel and a robe. 

"Meet me in the kitchen, baby," Tony says with a grin. With his own robe pulled on, he leaves the pool area and buzzes the gates open. The delivery guy has instructions to leave the pizza and once he's on his way, Tony fetches the boxes and brings the prized food stash to them.

* * *

This isn't how Peter had expected his night to go. He's not sure what he'd thought of aside from having sex, but he's really glad that that isn't _all_ this night has turned out to be. Sex is great and it's been too long since he's had it with Tony, but he's still flying high on his win, and as awesome as it had been to see his friends and his aunt again, this feels like a reward. 

Years ago, Peter never would have assumed that one day he'd be skinny dipping in Tony Stark's indoor pool. He would have probably assumed something hot would result from it, but the reality is kind of more awesome. There's something different and special about swimming around and laughing, trading occasional kisses and then splashing each other. It's nothing like the dynamic that Peter's grown used to, but it feels really good to be able to have fun with Tony, too. He's not sure what it means, or whether it'll last, but getting to dunk Tony under water and having it be reciprocated is pretty great.

By the time the pizza arrives, Peter almost feels giddy. His cheeks hurt from smiling and he feels a little out of breath, but all it takes is Tony climbing out of the pool (and one _killer _view, thanks) for Peter to climb out after him. He takes the towel Tony offers and he dries off quickly, and at Tony's instruction, Peter throws on the robe and walks over to the kitchen. 

It takes him a second to find his way back, because Tony's house is kind of huge, but once he's there, Peter wanders around until he finds the plates in the cupboard and pulls two of them down. The robe he's wearing feels soft and silken against his skin, and he just feels _good_. So, when Tony finds his way back with the pizza, Peter breathes in the scent and grins widely, pushing the plates a little closer.

"That smells _so good_, Tony. I still can't believe you did this. It's so cool of you."

* * *

Tony will keep it in mind that Peter seems to like the pool and the skinny dipping. Maybe tomorrow morning they can go for another swim. That'd be nice. It's been a while since Tony's taken a morning dip. 

Tomorrow and morning used in relation with Peter... Because Peter _can _stay over tonight - and is staying over. Shit. This is really happening. Well, of course it's happening. He's already got the cake in the fridge and the pizza in hand. Now that the damn show is finally over, they've got more freedom. Not that Tony is ever all that free - at least out in public and where cameras could be lurking. Naturally, it doesn't help that every phone has a camera too, but Tony's tastes don't have him mixing with the common folk all too often (not if he can help it anyway). 

When Tony arrives back to the kitchen, Peter looks all smiley and gorgeous and bright, and shit, the kid is infectious. Tony's grinning back, pleasantly surprised that Peter had taken the initiative to pull out plates. Maybe it should be weirder for them to both be wearing robes and going to be digging into pizza, but whatever. They're comfortable and now they don't need to worry about undressing later. See? Practical. Can't beat that reasoning. 

"You deserve it, kid," Tony affirms as he places the box down on the island and motions for Peter to go at it. 

The next while is spent with them chatting in between pizza bites. Peter happily blabs about the show and his friends and family and this time? This time Tony doesn't find that he minds all that much. 

* * *

It only takes Peter a minute or so after Tony opens the pizza box for Peter to realize just _what_ the pizza actually is. The way the cheese is melted, the shape, the thickness of the crust, and the way it all smells? Peter winds up reaching over and turning the lid of the box down, and sure enough, he not only recognizes the name, but he recognizes the fact that Tony had _remembered_ when Peter had told him that this was his favorite pizza place a few months back.

It honestly sends Peter for a small loop, honestly makes him reel a little as he sits back on the stool at the island and Tony places the box down and gestures for Peter to go for it. Which he does, but not until he's sent Tony a small, half-awed look. 

Tony had remembered. Maybe it's stupid, but it makes Peter feel extra giddy and warm to know that those hadn't just been throwaway questions that Tony had been asking him all that time ago. Sometimes with Tony, it's... kind of easy to assume the guy doesn't really care, and Peter's been fine with that for awhile. He knows what this is; Tony had made that clear before, but it's times like this where Peter can tell that Tony genuinely does care. He doesn't do it obviously, but this still means a hell of a lot.

So, yeah, maybe Peter sounds more enthusiastic when the conversation switches to his friends and his family. He feels warm and happy, a fluttering thrill somewhere deep in his chest as he takes a few slices of pizza and _thoroughly_ enjoys them while he talks. Well... once he's stopped talking briefly. He does have manners, after all, but Tony seems like he doesn't mind Peter cutting off to take a bite with a soft sound of satisfaction every now and then.

Peter's down three slices by the time his stomach helpfully informs him that he's full, or getting there. He could probably pack away an extra two slices if he tried, but as Peter trails off, he finds himself watching Tony and smiling. He's still thrilled that Tony had done this for him, and he feels warm and pleased and his heart kind of aches, but in a good way. 

"You're the best, you know?" He says suddenly. "I can't believe you remembered my favorite pizza place. Like... getting pizza was enough, but you seriously remembered. That's... that's really cool of you, Tony. Thank you."

* * *

It doesn't strike Tony as all that impressive that he's remembered Peter's favorites - after all, he'd asked for that information deliberately, and for this very purpose - to make winning special and for them to have his lame little celebratory party. He's found that putting in _directed_ energy tends to work out with people. Maybe he's ignorant and forgetful at times, but as long as he remembers a _few_ personal details, he can't be that much of an asshole, right?

Granted, Tony hasn't put in any effort _recently_, not with anyone other than Peter. After Pepper, dating's been pretty disastrous for Tony. It's just easier if he doesn't bother. Simply scratching the itch is better for everyone involved, and yet he's doing this - whatever _this _happens to be - with Peter Parker, wonder-boy extraordinaire. And despite the lurking concerns, Tony has no plans on stopping. He's always been good at ignoring what he doesn't like. This is no different.

Eating doesn't really work the best with talking, but they manage - mostly Peter - because Tony doesn't really feel like he has anything meaningful to contribute. He actually likes hearing about Peter's normal family and normal friends. Tony doesn't have much normal and mundane in his life. So, he eats the pizza (which is excellent - the kid has great tastes), and he asks a few questions or makes reassuring sounds for Peter to keep yammering away in between bites.

Peter's gratitude may be all gushy, but Tony smiles anyhow. He's more than glad that this is going supremely well.

"I try," Tony jokes. "To be the best, that is. I'm glad you've recognized it." Joking is easier than actually thinking about anything the kid's said.

Peter is adamant on helping him clean up, or at least putting the dishes in the dishwasher and the extra leftovers in the fridge. Once that's done, Tony is guiding Peter over to his living room and the very welcoming leather couch with reclining sections. 

He settles first, legs comfortably propped up, and then directs Peter to sit on his lap, but sideways. Tony's arms wrap around Peter's midriff and he sighs as he pulls him in close.

"I know I offered you something," he begins causally. "Back in the hotel room. I said I'd let you fuck me if you won - and that still stands - but as it's _your _night, I think it's only fair we do what _you_ want to do, so anything's on the table, Pete."

* * *

By the time Peter is done helping Tony load the dishwasher, he feels pleasantly full, warm, and more than a little drunk on nothing but pure excitement. It's more muted now, because there's something about having rambled at Tony for a good half an hour that has managed to calm him down into a lazier sort of contentment, but Peter still feels excitement bubbling inside of him. He's not sure how it's going to manifest, or what the rest of the evening has in store, but he's happy to be here, like this, with Tony. In whatever form that takes. 

Tony leads the way back into the living room and Peter feels amazing. In the back of his mind, he can't help but think about how so many people say that their wedding day happens to be the best day of their lives. Peter's pretty sure he has a good contender there now, because as Tony settles on his couch and then beckons Peter to join him, Peter doesn't think _any_ day will ever live up to this one.

Heart beating a little faster, Peter shoots Tony a quick grin and then does as he'd been invited to do. He climbs up onto Tony's lap, leaning in against his chest. The feeling of Tony's arm wrapping around him makes him feel warm, which is super lame, but whatever. Peter's had an amazing day so far. The robe slips down off of one of his legs, but it's still stupidly soft and Peter can feel the fabric under him too, and the knowledge that they're both basically naked sends a different little thrill through him.

Peter knows what he's expecting. He's been thinking about it, even if it does still make him feel nervous. So, when Tony begins to talk, Peter's _expecting_ him to say one thing. 

What he's _not_ expecting is for Tony to reinforce the offer, but then offer _anything _for tonight. He blinks, caught off guard, but the more that he thinks about how he feels, and the more he focuses on the last few hours, Peter feels... indecisive. 

He swallows. "I still-- I still want to fuck you. Like. Holy, Tony, like _so much_," Peter begins, squirming despite trying not to. "This has been really awesome, though. Could-- could we like, um--"

Peter cuts off, a little more hesitant, because he's not used to being the one _calling_ the shots. But Tony's been so great today, and he seems sincere... 

"Could we stay like this for a bit? I kinda wanna kiss you. If that's not weird. Is it weird? I kinda wanna do everything," he adds, sheepishly. "Is the... um. Fucking you thing a one-night offer?"

* * *

Considering they've just eaten, Tony's in no rush to well, rush anything. They have all night, and boy does that sound good after all the fucking sneaking around and time limits that they were bound to. Yes, yes, there was an appeal to manhandling Peter behind closed doors whilst not getting caught, but it didn't have any sort of longevity. Because Tony actually does like to take his time every once in a while.

Like now, Peter is a comfortable weight in his lap, and with Tony's arms around him as they are, it's almost like a hug. From Peter's physical response - the sudden tensing of his muscles before squirming - it's more than obvious that Tony's caught the kid off guard. Peter launches himself into the typical rambling mess of excitement and nerves. 

But Tony doesn't stop him. He doesn't shush Peter. He lets Peter stumble his way through some semblance of an answer, more endeared than not. Tony knows that Peter still struggles with the idea of calling the shots. After all, that's most definitely not how things started between them. It's something Tony's sort of trying to change, because Peter simply being some swooning fanboy who will bend over whenever he wants isn't really what Tony favors.

When Peter rambles himself out, Tony huffs a soft laugh out. 

"First, we don't need to rush. We have all night," Tony assures. "Second of all, kissing is definitely on the approved list. Pretty much everything is, which brings me to my next point: you want to do _everything_? Well, I'm not as young as I used to be, but I'm certainly down to try." 

A hand reaches up to grasp the back of Peter's neck and squeeze as he gazes at Peter. "Last point: You fucking me _isn't _a one-night offer."

* * *

There are _so _many things that Peter wants to say, so many that he wants to ask. The night feels like it's been perfect so far. The whole damn day has, and knowing that they have at least a little bit of time where they don't need to rush is like a breath of fresh air. 

The issue is the choices. The more that Peter thinks about them, the more he realizes that he really does want to do everything. Maybe it's stupid, but if there's an endless supply of options, tonight won't need to end. Dumb logic, but it's at least coming from a place of excitement and not too much worry. 

Before, back at the beginning, Tony never would have let Peter talk so much. He would have interjected, or taken control, and Peter _notices_ this time that Tony just lets him talk. In fact... Tony's been letting him do that a lot more often, now that he's thinking about it. Peter trails off to consider the reason that Tony might be doing that, but before he can get very far, Tony neatly sweeps in and answers, addressing all of Peter's points.

Which is... really hot, actually. Peter wets his lips, because while he'd thought they'd have a few hours maybe, he hadn't realized that Tony had meant _all night_. That implies the fact that Peter's welcome to _stay_, and that's... really, really cool. But, when Tony reaches up and squeezes the back of his neck, inviting Peter to look at him, Peter feels a swooping jolt of warmth and arousal shoot through him. 

He hadn't been expecting _any_ of this. 

"Oh," Peter breathes. A part of him had expected the whole _fucking_ thing to be a one-time offer, and the knowledge that it's not makes him feel different. Feel good, but also like maybe he's missing something. 

"Oh, then... yeah. Yeah, I'd like to, uh. Do as much as I can. But first I just really, _really_ want to kiss you. So I'm-- I'm gonna do that."

And Peter does. He reaches up with one of his hands and touches the sharper line of Tony's jaw. Then, before he can overthink it, Peter leans in and presses a kiss to Tony's lips. He knows they usually go harder and rougher immediately, but when he kisses Tony, it's softer. He just feels good, and he wants to savor this. 

* * *

Peter's always been eager and excitable, but instead of just looking at it from a distance as a thing to go 'aww' at and then fondly roll his eyes, this time Tony relates. At least more so than he usually does. He remembers when he was young and just getting into his music and into sex and the parties, the days blending to nights, and Tony couldn't get enough of _everything_. 

When you're young, the world has so much opportunity and wonderment - Tony sees it all over Peter. That hope and energy and optimism, so sure he can push his own agenda to the side - at least for tonight. Peter's done every single thing he's asked. Peter fucking _loves him_. Tony can at least do this much.

One day Peter will fuck him. Tony wants to see the kid lose it while being _in_ him, he wants Peter to be selfish, for Peter to use him and chase after pleasure, thrust after thrust. But Tony's aware that Peter is still learning. Peter's only been fucked once. More practice wouldn't go amiss, to get Peter used to the whole process.

Peter's eyes are wide, cheeks colored from arousal, and Tony's quite glad that they're free of most of their clothing. Besides, robes are easy access. 

After Peter bumbles about with his surprise, he seems to finally get enough courage and go for some lip action. Peter kisses the smile off of Tony's face, and Tony makes a reassuring sound as he lazily kisses back. Peter's hand on his face is different, but still nice. It's comfortable, and Tony lets Peter set the pace, kissing but not pushing for anything more. While they may not be in a rush, that doesn't stop Tony's hand from reaching to rub at Peter's dick - over the robe, however. His other hand remains on the back of Peter's neck as they indulge. 

* * *

Has Peter ever kissed Tony first? He must have. Or at least that's the vague impression that he gets, even if he can't necessarily pinpoint an exact time where he had done that first. Even if he hadn't, he has _now_, and as Peter feels the smile on Tony's lips fade as Tony opts to return the kiss instead, Peter feels an odd thrill shoot through him. 

Tony's _returning_ the kiss. He's not wresting control back or pushing the way that he normally does. Peter notices it immediately, the way that the lines of Tony's body don't go hard against him, and the way that Tony's arm around him stays a little loose and casual instead of grabbing and forcing him into a preferred position. It makes Peter feel a little disconnected, a little nervous, but mostly he feels warm and oddly excited. 

He tries to remember some of the stuff that Tony's taught him over the last few months, but all of their kissing before had been kind of biting and rough, and Peter doesn't really feel that way right now. So, though it's not their norm, Peter keeps the kiss a little softer and exploratory. He kisses Tony like he's savoring it, tasting the remnants of their meal on his lips and getting bold enough to nip and suck at Tony's lower lip a few times.

It's at the touch of Tony's hand to his dick that Peter lets out a small, shuddering moan and breaks the kiss. He looks down, aware that he's getting hard and half-expecting Tony to take control, but he doesn't seem to be in any sort of rush. Peter hesitates, but when he kisses Tony again, it's with a bit more purpose. And, though he's slower with it, Peter reaches down to set his hand over Tony's instead, encouraging the touch as he lifts his hips up into it slightly. This is different, but Peter already loves it. 

* * *

Tony sees no need to wrest back control and kiss Peter the way he'd normally kiss. Besides, Tony's style isn't _always _heated and hungry, sometimes he goes for more of a lackadaisical and teasing approach - just to keep things fresh. Although, back when he'd thought this was going to be a scratch the itch kind of fling, yeah, Tony took what he wanted and Peter loved every bit of it. So did Tony.

But tonight Tony's trying to be a little more easy-going and let Peter take charge. Lord knows the kid could use a boost in the self-confidence department, especially when it comes to sexual prowess. If Tony wants Peter to let loose and give it to him, Peter's gonna need all the experience he can get as well as the confidence upper. 

Tony may relax with the kiss, but that doesn't mean that he's docile or passive. Why shouldn't he touch Peter's pretty dick? Especially when Peter makes a sound like he does. Peter's made many sounds over the course of these couple months, but Tony hasn't grown tired of them. 

It's Peter who breaks the kiss, glancing down at Tony's hand, but Tony's not told no, so he doesn't stop. Tony doesn't change anything up, just gentle rubbing and coaxing overtop the housecoat, in no rush, because they finally don't have to be. 

When Peter's mouth initiates another kiss, his hand actually comes to rest atop Tony's hand, moving and encouraging. Tony groans softly into the kiss, his own cock beginning to harden. 

Tony may not make the kiss rougher, but it's him who deepens it, licking into Peter's mouth, needing to taste.

* * *

This feels different, but it's a good different. It's the kind of different that Peter knows he could easily get addicted to, and it's the kind of different that he wants more and more of right now. Maybe Tony isn't biting at his lips and fucking Peter's mouth with his tongue, but he's not skimping on the kissing either. He kisses Peter like he wants to, like it's something that'll give _him_ pleasure as well, and the thought sends a thrill through Peter's chest.

The idea that Tony actually likes being with him? The thought that Tony really does get off on making him feel good, and letting Peter take things slower? That's huge, and so when Tony keeps rubbing at Peter's dick and then gently deepens the kiss, Peter moans under his breath, immediately letting Tony taste.

A shiver slides up his spine as Tony's tongue licks into his mouth. It's slow and perfect, and Peter doesn't think as he lifts his free hand to Tony's cheek. He kisses back, tongue touching almost shyly against Tony's, and his fingers carefully working into Tony's hair as the hand over his dick keeps rubbing slowly. 

Peter feels dizzy with it. He's in no real rush, but when he shifts and feels Tony's dick beginning to harden under him, it sends a different rush through him. He swallows back a moan, experimentally squirming on Tony's lap just to feel the growing hardness of his dick, and the memory of the _last_ time comes back. It makes Peter shudder, makes him want, and when he breaks the kiss this time, it's with a small shiver.

"Do you... think you could fuck me again?" Peter asks, breathless but a little uncertain. "I still want to fuck you too! Like, a _lot_. But I just wanna feel you like that again. Is that... okay?"

* * *

It doesn't matter that this is different, because it's good. _Peter_ feels good, the perfect weight atop of Tony, his sweet mouth eager and showing more initiative as they take their time and savor the kiss like a fine wine. As far as Tony's concerned, the entire night's been a great success. The fucking show is finally done, and the recording stuff and album will be much less of an overall hassle.

But that's not something Tony even wants to think about right now. He's got a fed and happy Peter on his lap. And Peter's mouth opens, willing and wanton, his cock hardening. Fingers stroking through Tony's hair have his scalp lighting up in delicious sensation that ups Tony's arousal. Tony does want Peter to be rough and shameless with him, but it doesn't have to be tonight. Tony can wait.

When Peter moves, it's obvious that Peter's struck by the fact that Tony is also hard - which Tony doesn't think should be all that surprising - but that fact is only indulged in as Peter grinds against him.

A flare of heat scorches through Tony, and it takes far too much effort to hold himself back from going further, maybe biting at Peter - his lip, his neck, anywhere. So, the desire to just wreck his baby boy is still alive and well. Good to know.

Tony is rewarded by what Peter says, and he can't help but growl as he tucks his face closer to Peter's neck, inhaling him. Hearing both things - that Peter wants to fuck him and also wants to be fucked _tonight_ has Tony feeling antsy in the best way.

"'Course it's okay, baby," Tony soothes. "Daddy wants to give you whatever you want, and if you want to be filled and fucked, who am I to deny you that?"

With that, his hand snakes in-between the housecoat and fingers brush along Peter's length.

* * *

Peter knows what the plan had been, and it's not that he's not interested in it still. But, given the choice, and considering how he feels, the thought of having Tony fuck him again is thrilling. The first time had been a lot all at once, and while Peter has gotten off many times to the memory, he knows it hadn't been perfect. He'd come too easily, he'd felt over-sensitive while Tony had been chasing his own orgasm, and Peter had been sore for a few days after. Not to mention the whole... _thing_ after. 

But the competition is over now. Peter's won, and Tony's been so amazing today. He still feels like he's flying high, his heart and his stomach both feeling full in the best way possible, and he's warm and comfortable on Tony's lap. He wants to try again. He wants to do it right, or to at least try, and while he does feel guilty for changing the plan, it doesn't look like Tony feels _too_ annoyed over it.

In fact he doesn't feel annoyed at all if the way he leans in close to Peter's neck and smells him is any indication. Peter isn't sure _why_ that's hot, and a nervous part of him hopes he actually smells good and not like pool water, but Tony seems to like it. And, when he speaks, his voice low and smooth and sexy, Peter bites back a moan, both at the tone, and at the _words_.

"God, Tony," Peter breathes. It's been awhile since he's heard Tony call himself _Daddy_ like this, and Peter's cock twitches between his legs. And... then twitches again in Tony's _hand_ when Tony reaches into the housecoat and wraps his fingers around Peter's dick. Peter makes a higher sound in his throat, his hips lifting encouragingly as he looks down to where Tony's hand has disappeared under the robe. 

"I do. Want that, I mean. Please, Daddy?" 

Peter turns his head again and catches Tony's lips in another kiss. He's not quite as tentative this time and it's kind of terrifying, but he feels good. Besides, if he's kissing Tony, he can't voice small, stupid thoughts he's having, like wanting to ask Tony if he's proud, or if he _really_ wants to keep doing this now that they'll be working together. Some things are best left for another day.

* * *

It doesn't really matter _when_ it happens, just that it _does_. Tonight, tomorrow, two weeks, a month from now - whenever - as long as Tony eventually gets his way. Tony wants to see Peter lose it while fucking him, he wants to _feel _it, to feel Peter chase after pleasure, to _use_ him for pleasure, and to take it. Nothing sounds hotter than that to Tony. He's taken and used Peter selfishly, so it's time for Peter to return the favor, a little quid pro quo. 

It's just something he's latched onto and he won't be giving it up, but he can alter his original timeline a bit. While he's certainly known to be difficult at times, Tony _can _be flexible - at least for Peter Parker. Distantly he thinks of Pepper, remembering how she'd been so disgusted with him by the end of their relationship, the frequent heavy sighs that conveyed far more disappointment than screamed out words ever could.

Tony's aware that the night at the hotel probably passed in a rush for Peter. This time, Tony can take his time and all from the comfort of his own home. Besides, the way that _his _name slips out of Peter's mouth like a desperate breath? The way Peter's cock twitches at the touch? It's all proof that Peter really does want this, and Tony's just the man to give it Peter for a second time. 

Everything Peter does encourages Tony, the way his hips push up, the sounds he makes, and how he's actually looking down and trying to watch _plus _the addition of _Daddy_ and begging. 

Before Tony can say a word, Peter's mouth is back on his, and the kiss is deeper and hungrier, pulling Tony in and getting him harder. His fingers lightly glide up and down Peter's hard cock, returning the kiss with equal tongue and teeth. When he breaks away, Tony hums appreciatively, his lips slick from Peter's salvia and pulse quick. His hand stops playing with Peter's cock, instead, he works on parting the housecoat and pulling it down, letting the fabric pool around Peter's waist and exposing a bare torso in the process. 

"Such a beautiful boy," Tony praises as his eyes drink in the sight of Peter's lightly toned muscles. He reaches out, letting his hand rub down Peter's chest before he thumbs at a nipple, rubbing it lightly. "I haven't paid too much attention to these in the past, have I?"

* * *

The heat that settles low in Peter's stomach feels comfortable and familiar. It's equal parts arousal and something else, something that feels almost embarrassing but also natural. It's not just due to kissing Tony, though the fact that Peter kisses him instantly, mindless of being careful _does_ make him feel a little hot and uncertain until he feels Tony kiss him back with equal fervor. No, Peter knows that it's the _Daddy_ thing. It feels like it's been a long time since he'd heard it, and Peter remembers being uncomfortable and a little uncertain about it at first, but there's something about hearing it now that goes right to his dick.

Peter still doesn't know what it implies aside from a power imbalance. He certainly doesn't think of Tony _as_ a dad. But he _does_ feel the urge to work harder, to please, and to have Tony's favor for a job well done whenever he hears - or says - the word. So, maybe that's enough. Maybe it doesn't have to make sense. Peter just likes it, and so, while he does immediately miss the touch to his cock - and the kiss - when Tony moves his hand away, he trusts that something just as good is coming instead.

He's not disappointed. Still breathing a little hard, his lips stinging pleasantly from the kiss, Peter watches as Tony eases his housecoat down. Peter frees his arms. In fact, he's just barely pulling his right one free when Tony calls him beautiful. Before Peter can do more than feel a lick of heat at the praise, Tony's thumb suddenly presses to one of his nipples, sending a small, foreign jolt through Peter's body. He draws in a quick breath.

"Um-- I don't- no?" Peter swallows, looking down to watch Tony's hand. "Not really. Do you want to?"

Yes, it feels good to have Tony touching his nipple, but Peter can't help but be a little skeptical. He's never really played with them before, but it's still Tony touching him. If only for that reason, Peter wants to give it a try.

* * *

Tony's not really delved into the _why_ behind certain kinks. He likes what he likes. It doesn't matter where the fascination or enjoyment has spawned from. The human mind is fucked up and amazing, but he's got no interest in unpacking his own desires. Tony _likes_ Peter calling him Daddy, he likes being in that dominant role where he's in control but caring, and his age and position have weight to them.

It's not the only thing he's into. Tony may dip into the pool of younger fish, but he's not ageist. He likes the experience of someone around his own age too, as confidence can be lacking in the twenty years olds - something that Peter's shown him, but it's fine. Tony got to pop that sweet cherry of Peter's and sometimes that can be worth more than what confidence can offer.

Tony prides himself in his ability to properly and thoroughly enjoy a partner's body, but given that most of the instances spent together were in hiding, Tony usually went for Peter's mouth or his dick. But there's two little nipples that he hasn't spent much time with, so why wouldn't Tony call attention to them? They have time for him to play and yeah, Tony intends to play. 

Peter draws in a surprised breath at the touch and it's telling and Tony loves it.

_'Do you want to?'_

"I already am," Tony answers and he rolls the little pink nub between his thumb and finger before tugging on it. "How does that feel?"

* * *

Peter might not know what to expect from this, but it doesn't mean that he's not willing to try. Tony hasn't ever led him astray before. Nothing that Tony has done has felt awful. Nothing sexual anyway. Sometimes it's been a little sensitive, and sometimes it's been a bit rough, but Peter's liked everything that Tony has done. He can't imagine why this would be any different.

Still, he'd never really paid that much attention to his nipples before. On women? Sure, that would make sense. But Peter is a man. 

It doesn't stop Tony's more focused touch from sending a lick of pleasure through Peter's body, though. Peter watches, his lips parted as Tony's thumb and forefinger roll and pinch his nipple. The visual of it is hot, and there's something about Tony's focused attention that makes him feel a little flustered, but in a good way.

Plus, Tony just up and saying '_I already am_'? Like he doesn't need to ask permission? It's... kind of hot. It makes something squirm in Peter's stomach, makes his dick feel a little harder.

"It-- oh. It feels... weird? Good, I think." Peter cuts off when Tony tugs instead, his chest arching forwards a little as he lets out a soft, breathy, "fuck."

* * *

The problem is, Peter's nipples are cute little things that Tony would love to play with... nipple clamps, ice cubes, biting them, sucking - an array of fun activities that would leave those nips sore and aching in the best possible way. It's not that he wants to hurt Peter, it's not even about the pain, but the intensity and the connection, the fucking thrill Tony feels when he's working up a partner and forcing them to squirm and beg. Most of the time they don't even know what they're begging for - more, for it to stop, for something to change - it's all delightful.

Tony doesn't think he'll go that far tonight. He hasn't forgotten that Daddy's good boy wants to be fucked after all. He can see Peter staring down, Peter watching, curious and engaged, and just that fact alone is enough to want to push Tony to do more - like possibly record them or make Peter watch himself in a mirror. 

Peter's breathy words are barely heard, but the way he arches forward - that has Tony smiling. He drops his other hand to Peter's lap, working its way into the folds to wrap around Peter's hard cock. And as he slowly strokes it, he pulls and twists Peter's nipple, offering pleasure and pain.

"We both know that we need to get you off at least once before I fuck you," Tony murmurs as his thumb moves to the other nipple. Sharing is caring, after all, and he wants both of his boy's nipples swollen.

* * *

Peter doesn't know if it feels good. His nipples are sensitive, but what _kind_ of sensitive he doesn't know. He knows about pain-sensitive, but he knows about pleasure-sensitive too. Because of Tony, he _also_ knows what they both feel like at the same time. The way that it had felt when Tony had fucked him in the hotel room, how over-sensitive he'd felt, how strung out and desperate he'd been? That had been intense.

The tug to his nipple feels... similar. Maybe. It's hard to tell. 

But Tony seems to know what he's doing. He _also_ seems fixated on the way that Peter reacts. Peter only catches a glimpse of the smile on Tony's lips before the hand that had been bracing him suddenly drops down. Tony wraps that arm around him, keeping Peter close, but when Tony wraps a hand around his cock and begins to stroke as he pinches and tugs at Peter's nipple? Peter can't stop a breathless groan, torn between squirming away and jerking his hips.

He manages a weird mix of the two that probably looks like more of a spasm than anything even _close_ to sexy, but he doesn't have time to feel embarrassed by it. Tony switches it up, his voice low, coaxing, a little taunting, but he's right. Peter flushes, wetting his lips as he rocks his hips up, because suddenly the whole nipple-thing feels like the right kind of intense.

"Fuck, Tony," Peter grinds out, leaning against Tony's chest for support. "That's-- that feels really intense. Could you-- more? I think. God, I don't know what I want."

* * *

The only hope of Peter lasting and actually enjoying Tony fucking him is if Peter gets off at least once beforehand. By now, it's a known thing, and for this upcoming time tonight, Tony would like to see if they can come together or relatively around the same time. It seems like a fun direction to take. Besides, getting Peter off is no hardship - nor is it a difficult task. 

Thankfully, Peter is expressive and sensitive, and it makes the experience rather enjoyable for Tony. It's not always the case either, because if a partner is too passive _or _over the top, it's just no fun. Genuine reactions, honest responses, pure unadulterated pleasure is what Tony's interested in and Peter gives it to him so naturally.

Peter is absolutely a treat, groaning and fidgeting from the dual sensations of Tony's hand working his cock and tormenting cute little nipples that are hardening delightfully from the attention. He doesn't care that Peter's hips are lifting and seeking his touch. Peter getting off sooner than later means they get to take their little party somewhere else. It's almost as if Peter's overwhelmed and needs the support as he crowds in close, but Tony allows it.

"It's okay, Daddy knows what you need, doesn't he?" Tony murmurs before tugging and twisting on the current nipple he's on, giving Peter some sharper sensation. He squeezes Peter's cock, letting the pads of his fingers trace over the tip before sliding down. But then Tony purposely stops moving his hand, but his fingers remain wrapped around Peter's dick.

"Fuck my hand 'til you come, Pete," Tony orders, nuzzling in close to to press a kiss to his boy's hair.

* * *

A part of Peter wonders if Tony is going to be okay with the fact that Peter leans in against him, but he doesn't have to worry. Tony just accepts it, his fingers still pinching and playing with his nipples, and his free hand still working over Peter's cock. It's a mix of sensation that starts out weird, but it doesn't take it long to start feeling good. It's a more jittery kind of pleasure, but as Peter leans against Tony's chest, he can't help but bask a little in the attention.

The attention and the reassurance. Peter's a little embarrassed to admit that Tony's right. It's nothing that he hasn't said before, but this isn't the competition anymore. This is... something different. Peter's no longer just a contestant, and Tony's not a judge. But Tony - apparently - is still _Daddy_, and a twist of arousal squirms through Peter's chest right before a sharper lance cuts through him. 

He makes a small sound at the twist to his nipple. _That_ does hurt, but coupled with the strokes to his cock, Peter feels wired in a good way. He's not expecting anything but Tony jerking him off and murmuring low to him. So, when Tony's hand suddenly comes to a stop and he tells Peter what he wants him to do, Peter bites his lip with a low moan and nods jerkily.

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do that. Just-- don't stop." 

Peter leans against Tony's chest for support as he lifts his hips. At first, the rhythm is awkward. Peter's aware of Tony's dick against his ass and he's careful not to move in a way that would hurt him, but he does soon find an angle that works. Breathing harder, he reaches up, looping an arm around Tony's neck for purchase as he rocks his hips steadily, fucking up into the tight tunnel of Tony's fist. 

It feels amazing. He glances down, watching the flushed head of his cock slide through the grip of Tony's fist on every thrust, and the knowledge that Peter will get to do that to _Tony_ some day leaves molten heat coiling low. Tony had told him to go until he came, and Peter doesn't actively _try_ to hold back. Not that he could. Not with every pinch and twist of Tony's fingers, nor the soft praise, or the way he seems to tighten his grip when Peter starts feeling close.

He doesn't know how long it's been when Tony's fingers pinch just a _little_ too hard, and Peter tenses, his back arching. His fingers immediately grip at Tony's hair and he lets out a soft, breathless curse. 

Peter manages a tight, "Daddy-- fuck, please--" and then he's coming, spilling wet and hot over Tony's fist with small, desperate jerks of his hips.

* * *

Of course, Peter listens to him - there's really no reason why Peter _wouldn't. _As much as Tony greatly enjoys Peter's eagerness to comply, he's still curious how it would be if Peter got pushy, if he took the reins, so to speak. 

It's true that most of the time Tony prefers to be the one in control, to be leading and taking and doing exactly what _he_ wants, but every once in a while, it's just a relief to give it up for a bit. To put it on pause and to let someone else have their way with him. It can be deliciously hot to be at someone's mercy - he's sure Peter would agree. The kid's practically a walking advertisement of it.

Tony suspects that, in time, Peter could take up that mantle, but Peter needs a few more notches on that belt so to speak, and that's fine. Tony's a great mentor, so it stands to reason that he could be a great teacher in the bedroom too. 

Under Peter's ass, Tony's cock is hard and each time Peter does so much as shift, he's essentially rubbing against Tony's trapped erection. It's a fucking perfect tease. 

As Peter works for his orgasm, hips lifting up to fuck into Tony's tunneled fist, Tony's fingers continue to rub and pinch at pretty pebbled nipples, providing a counterpoint to the pleasure. He murmurs his encouragement in a low voice, keeping Peter close and totally tuned in to this show. And when Peter comes, messy and desperate, Tony's fingers squeeze and milk his pretty boy's cock for all he's worth. 

"There, that's better isn't it?" Tony asks with a chuckle. It's a question that requires no answer. Now that Peter's got one orgasm down, they can have more fun.


End file.
